


Suicide Squad Rebooted

by Little_Duckling1995



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-11-22 17:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Duckling1995/pseuds/Little_Duckling1995
Summary: Dahlia was an experiment, her only known "mother" was the infamous Amanda Waller and a few other scientists before her, forced to do the bidding of people she doesn't even like.  In the search for herself she manages to get tangled up with the criminal known as Digger Harkness and he definitely shows her a good time.The typical romance ensues with my signature twists.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovlies! So I got to thinking, there isn't enough Jai Courtney fanfics out there. I mean, why? Ultimate man and Australian. Plus I love his character in Suicide Squad cause like bad guy. I'm working on an I, Frankenstein fic for Gideon and eventually an Eric and Varro one. SO look forwards to that. Enjoy!

A pop of gum echoed inside the alley walls followed by a thick puff of cigarette smoke.  The shallow sound of footsteps was in tune with the beginning sounds of passion.  Stopping just short of the enraptured couple, the darkened figure took another drag of her cigarette, her long fingernails lightly brushing her rounded nose.  Addressing the half-naked blonde, the dark figure spoke in a matter-of-factly voice.  “Do you always make those high-pitched sounds when you are turned on?  I don’t know how any man can have an orgasm around you.”  She exhaled the smoke.  “Aye, no one likes a peepin’ tom.  Unless y’wanna join?”  The burly man gave her a toothy grin.  The stranger dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out.  Inhaling fresh, as fresh as an alley can be, air she ran her long, painted fingers through her firetruck red hair, further making her unruly hair more wild.  “Classy, but I don’t share.  So here is the deal…”

She walked towards the bimbo and the brute, leaning on her right shoulder against the wall, pushing the hair out of the opposite woman’s face.  “You’re going to get dressed,” she turned her neck to eye the man, “and you’re coming with me.  With no questions asked.”  With her eyes never leaving his, the stranger took her left index finger and drug the edge of her nail down his dark-haired chest, stopping just short of his navel.  “And if you behave, _we_ may get to finished what you two started.”  The dark promise had the man quickly leaving the blonde and following the fiery figure. 

The duo could hear the annoyingly, high-pitched protests of the forgotten girl.  “Hmm, I thought your taste in women would be much more… exceptional I suppose.  Or at least more tolerable.”  She dug her hands into her pockets, feeling the cigarette box in one and her lighter in the other.  A deep chuckle sounded next to her, “A juts a jut ain’t it?”  She ran her tongue over her teeth.  “And mines exceptional.”

“Just like ta’ women ya think I would be sleepin’ around with yeah?”  A smirk plastered on her lips, “Better.”  All patience the man had was lost.  Within moments, he had her pressed up against the side of a brick building, the city streets mostly empty, knocking the wind right out of her.  His large hands already pawing at her ample chest; his mouth equally occupied with the sensitive skin just under her ear.  “And here I thought you’d be a gentleman and at least ask me my name.”  With a grunt and a breathy voice, he took her bait.  “Ya picked me up in an alley already gettin’ ready to fuck another Sheila… aren’t we a bit passed ‘em names?”

“But I so desperately want you to scream it later tonight.  Not on a side street.”  Almost painfully he griped her breasts harder, shoving a knee in between her legs.  An unmanageable sigh escaped her lungs.  “And yet ya don’t wanna ask me my name?” 

“I am much aware of who you are.”  She pushed her pelvis into his leg, arching her back slightly.  _Keep a straight head.  Keep a straight head._ “Alright.  Tell me, darl’.”  For a moment, her head was becoming foggy, pleasure overriding basic logic.  “Dahlia.”

“Hmm.”  He hummed in pleasure.  “You gon’ be my _doll_ for the night?”

“My place isn’t far from here.”  Reluctantly, he released her.  Giving her a lustful eye.

 

Within the last 10 minutes from that moment he had her pinned against the brick wall, to the second her key turned the lock to her home, he managed to cop a feel on her ass at least 7 times and a good three of those, his rough hands managed to slip into the band of her pants.  Not that she minded, she had every intention of sleeping with the man tonight. 

Dahlia’s apartment was small, perfect for her and the occasional male visitor.  But her favorite feature was how open everything was and the big windows afforded her much light when the sun was up.  She was comfortable.  “That room, around the corner, take off your clothes and get into the bed.  I will be there shortly.”  The man turned to face her, obviously displeased with the less than timely time he would be able to be inside of her.  He ran his fingers up her shirt, skimming the soft, tender skin just below her breasts, coaxing a sigh out of her.  “I said to behave.  I really, _really_ don’t want to retract my offer.”  With that comment, a toothy grin was plastered all over his face.  “Whatever my _doll_ wants.”

As he sauntered off, Dahlia made sure he was doing as he was told, like a child who may sneak off to do the opposite.  Once she was sure he was fully engrossed in doing her request, she pulled out her phone.  Quickly typing in the password, she found the unsaved number she was meant to text.  “Package loaded.”  Within moments, the vibrating of the phone went off.  “ _Be there in an hour.”_   Dahlia peeked into her room, the man was casually searching through her drawers, of course, her underwear drawer.  Snickering, she sent back, “Make it two.” 

_“You’re disgusting, Dahlia.”_   Excitement spread lower in her abdomen as she quickly responded, “I’m only a metahuman.  Doors open.”  With that, Dahlia set down the phone waltzing towards the bedroom.  She leaned against the door frame, admiring the, what she thought to be, a true image of a man, ravaging through her drawers; quite literally.  Seductively, she bit her lip and twisted a curl around her finger.  His taught buttocks called for her to press herself up against them.  His skin pulled tight across his muscular frame.  Damn, if he looked this good from the back, she could only anticipate seeing the front more.

“Ya making me cheeks red from all that staring y’doin’.” 

“Maybe you should return the favor?”  She pushed herself off against the frame, taking long strides to the man, her shirt flung to a far-off corner in the room, her bra following.  Once she was near enough to touch him, she wrapped her arms around his hard torso, toying with the little path of hairs leading to his treasure.  “All these undies are clean.  I get to keep the ones y’wearin’ now.  A little souvenir.”  She stood on her tippy toes, dragging her nipples across the skin of his back.  A small hiss was heard from the man, if it was an inhale or an exhale, she couldn’t tell.  Seductively, Dahlia whispered, “What if I’m not wearing any?”  With that she shoved her hand past his waist line and into his pants, tightly grasping him.  Ghost like, she ran the tip of her fingers over the tip of his manhood.  Earning a deep groan.  She pumped him a few times before leading him towards the bed, pushing him onto the firm mattress.

She leaned towards her night stand, taking out a pair of handcuffs.  “You don’t get to argue, but I get to do what I want with you.”  With a surprising amount of strength, she grabbed his left hand and forcefully, but still gently, clasped his hand to the head board.  She eyed him, specifically over his bobbing erection.  Charmingly, she ran her hands up his body and down his muscular legs.  Without warning she licked his length from base, to tip, wrapping her lips around his head and releasing with a pop.  His eyes rolled in the back of his head, holding back an aggressive grunt.  “As much as I wanna feel ya tongue on my cock, what I want more is ta taste that cherry in ya pants.”  Dahlia looked up at him seductively with him in her hands.  With his free hand, he ran a thumb over her lips.  “Come sit up on me face.”

“I’d be more than happy to oblige.”  Without hesitation, her pants were discarded.  Living true to her word, Dahlia did indeed wear no underwear.  She swung a leg over his torso, leaning forward and brushing her lips against his neck.  With his right hand, the man pushed her up, wanting to get an eyeful, and a taste, of her breasts.  “Damn Doll, ya tits… how tha fuck do ya breathe?”  He palmed her chest, making her head fall back slightly at his touch.  “Maybe you should ease some of the tension.”

“Then get ya jut over here and I can help ya.”  Dahlia lifted her hips and hovered over his waiting face.  Making eye contact with him, she felt his hand run up the back of her thigh and squeezing her ass.  Without warning, a long, languid lick of his tongue had her head already foggy and leaning against the headboard.  Like a suction, he placed his lips over her hidden nub coaxing it out of hiding.  Her toes curled, “Oh god.  Fuck.”  The man grunted in appreciation, creating a hardline of pleasure to her nub.  “Ya gonna cum all over my face?”  Quickly he kept flicking her nub with the tip of his tongue.  “Y-yes.”  With the last flick, a rush of liquid coated the man’s lips.  A loud moan of ecstasy flooded the room.  White knuckling the headboard, Dahlia took deep breaths, trying to gain her composure, riding out the waves of pleasure.  “Mhm Doll, y’taste like liquid candy.”  He took one last lick and adjusted her legs so she would be able to sit on his torso. 

“Are ya ready for the ride of ya life?”  Without waiting for a response, the man forcefully flipped Dahlia on her back, her head bouncing on the pillow.  He placed his hand on the side of her chest, trying to press her plush breasts together.  Taking his thumb and forefinger, he pinched her dusty brown nipple.  “Ah Doll, ya so soft and squishy and when I’m done with ya, I’m gonna sleep right on top of ‘em pillows.”  Dahlia giggled, her fingers joining his on her chest. 

He pushed her legs farther apart with his hips, angling himself toward her center.  In one hasty thrust, his pelvis met hers, pressing against her opening.  “Fuck, Doll.  Ya grippin’ me so tight.”  He took his thumb and rubbed her nub, loosening her channel.  His chained hand gripped the headboard tightly, the other clutching her hip.  Dahlia knew tomorrow, his large hand print would leave a bruise.  With force he thrusted up, earning a breathy gasp from the woman beneath him.  His grip on her headboard gave him extra leveraged force.  The pace on her nub quickened, leading her closer and closer to her end.  “Come on, Doll.  I wanna feel you all over me.”  His words made her shiver.  “Fuck, I’m close.”  The man’s thrusts were deep and hard, jolting the woman. 

With one last push, the man swelled, then released, signaling her end as well.  She gripped his hand on her hip, pushing herself into him.  “Fuckin’ hell, Doll.  Ya made me finish way too early.”  He collapsed on top of her, the weight crushing.  Dahlia cherished the feeling of him on top of her, pinning her to the bed. 

Within moments, gentle snoring resonated on her ear.  Dahlia rolled her eyes.  Smoothly, she scooted herself from under him.  Not waking the heave brute, she grabbed her cigarettes, a piece of mint gum, and her lighter.  Walking back to the kitchen, she grabbed her phone and opened the door to her personal patio, not bothering to clothe herself.  Under the 2am stars, a flicker of light lit her cigarette.  Inhaling deeply, she turned to a song on her phone, listening to the rough voices of Robin Loxley and Jay Hawke. 

Once she was down to the butt of her cigarette, she crushed it in the ash tray, scratched her bare belly and walked back into the house, locking the patio door behind her.  She looked at the time on her phone, walked back into the bedroom, placed it on her dresser, and started to get dressed.  Her underwear drawer all a strew.  A groggy voice awoke her from her trance.  “Gettin’ dressed already?  Not into a round two?”  She continued to get dressed, not looking at him.  “No, I’d be all up for more than just two, but I don’t want to be naked when he comes in.”  Puzzled, the man questioned, “Who?” 

“George Harkness, you’re under arrest.”  Several men came burling into her room.  Guns trained on the man in her bed.  “Mother fucker.”  Harkness struggled against the handcuffs.  One of the men went to cover Harkness’s nakedness and ended up with a bleeding, broken nose. 

Once the criminal was finally restrained, he looked at Dahlia, a smirk plastered all over his smug face.  “I’ll ask ta all-time money question, da fuck ya sell me out?  After that good rootin’?  Thought ya’d keep me around for life.” The song on Dahlia was listening to was still playing and instead of responding she decided to sing with the lyrics. 

_I’ve been down on bended knee, talkin’ to the man from Galilee._

_Spoke to me in a voice so sweet, thought I heard the shuffle of angels feet._

_There’s only one thing to me he said, “Do my bidding till the rivers red.”_

“Take him Rick.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome back. Here is lovely chapter two, been working on this one for awhile now. I had other chapters well in mind and so I ended up taking forever by typing later chapters. I gotta say, this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written so far. Please check out the others! Without further ado...

**_SIX MONTHS LATER_ **

“… now he will follow my orders as Holy Writ.”  The business men all eyed each other across the table.  Amanda, again, broke the silence, “And lastly, my personal favorite,” she slid over a photo to the men, “is an… investment that we are now cashing in gentlemen.”  The picture of the brown eyes, a cocked eyebrow, and smileless face bore into the men’s own.  Her black wavy hair and squared jaw were perfectly formed.  “Dahlia.  A metahuman gifted with super strength, incredible healing abilities, but not just for herself, she can heal others too.  She also has the ability to be able to create an energy like field.  Extremely intelligent, able to quick think, so her battle strategies are unmatched.  We are not sure if that is one of her gifts or she is just smart.  Her abilities make her fantastic for the defense, not so much offense and she is too quick to trust.  She wishes affections.”

One of the men cleared his throat finally having the chance to speak.  “Why is she an investment?”  With a sly grin, Amanda quickly responded, “She has been in our _care_ since she was 6… since 1925.   Perfectly groomed, trained to our wishes.  She’s lethal and…”

“Wait,” one of the men pressed a finger hard against the picture, turning white, “you are telling me this woman is almost 100 years old?”  Amanda cocked an eyebrow.  Leaning forward in her chair, she rested her elbows against the table, shaking the wine glasses slightly.  “That is exactly what I am saying.”

All the chairmen looked questioningly at each other, not convinced.  Licking her lips and sitting back in her seat, Amanda sealed the deal.  “In a world of flying men and monsters, this is the only way to protect our country.” 

 

“’I bet I could out drink ya.’  He said.”  Shaking his head, the bartender wiped down the counter top with the “clean” rag.  Eighties music blasting in the background.  “Famous last words.”  Dahlia gulped down her last shot of tequila, glancing at the stranger passed out next to her.  “What can I say?  I’m just so lady like.”  She took a sip of water to wash down the burning in her throat.  “Can you put it on ‘I can’t hold my liquor’s tab?”  She grunted, shoving a thumb toward the stranger and taking another sip of her water, “When he wakes up.”  The bartender took Dahlia’s empty shot glasses and refilled her water glass.  “I think you do it for the free drinks.  The Scammer they will call you.”

“Ah Timmy-Tom… it’s more likely they will call me the bitch who stole their money.”  She gave him a lazy thumbs up.  Gulping down her fourth glass of water, she heard Tim’s gruff voice shake, “Aye, fellas.  Don’t come in here looking for trouble.”  Setting her glass on the bar counter, Dahlia sighed and painted hearts with arrows in them on the dew of the glass, her eyes half-mast.  “Oh Tim, they are always looking for trouble.”  She tapped her finger on the rim of the glass, signaling that she wanted more water, knowing it would be a long night.  “Generally, I get the trouble part of the deal.”  Tim filled up her glass and in one, long chug, the cold water was gone, stinging her head. 

Standing up from the bar stool, she saluted Tim and faced the crew coming to collect her.  “What beck-n-call does _mother_ want me to do for her now, Rick?”  Rick Flag stood with his hand resting on his pistol, knowing he wouldn’t need to use it, just for his usual intimidation tactics.  “Well you’re coming, so you’ll soon find out.”  Rick and Dahlia never got along.  She was tired of his “lap dog” personality and he was annoyed with her witty one-liners and sarcastic comments.  Secretly, she loved to pester him, knowing Amanda wouldn’t let him harm a little hair on her expendable head, as Amanda put it. 

One of the goons roughly pulled her arms behind her body, forcing her chest forward.  With a maniacal giggle, she whispered to the man clad in black.  “You like it rough?  Mhm so do I.”  Rick clicked his tongue, “Let’s go.”  She was propelled forward, passing Rick she antagonized him.  “Bark bark.”  Clenching his teeth, he followed the Dahlia out of the bar.  All the while Tim cleaning his bar as if this was an everyday occurrence. 

 

Belle Reve Prison: a cornucopia of crazies, forgotten criminals, and smells that will rot the inside of your nose.  Their footsteps echoing of the concrete walls, mixing with the sounds of pleas and loony laughter.  The black suited stranger pushed Dahlia into an office and shoving her down into a chair facing a tightly kept desk.  Dahlia whipped her head around doe-eying the guard.  “Hey, babe, I said I like it rough, but you’re just not my type.”  Feigning sympathy, she mouthed, but never said, ‘sorry’.

With a loud bang, Amanda walked into the office, taking long strides to her seat across from Dahlia.  “Ah, mother _dearest_ , I was wondering when you would make your grand appearance.”  Amanda’s lips were pursed.  She sat down in the chair, crossing her legs, sitting ramrod straight.  Dahlia continued her taunting, “It’s been what, a whole 48 hours without you commanding me to do your dirty work?  You must be in a pain.”  With no pause in between, Amanda retorted, “Mother… an odd term of endearment for you.”

“Oh, but I don’t mean it in such.  It’s more of uh… jeer, jest, a mockery.”  She made a hardline of tension in their unfazed gazes, adjusting her arms still locked behind her.  “Coming from a place of great malice.” 

“As long as you fear me, I couldn’t care less.  Moving on.  You’re joining the project I wished to start forever ago.”  Dahlia rolled her eyes, a groan leaving her throat.  “God again?  Are they actually allowing you to do it this time?”

“I would have done it regardless.  Welcome to the team, Dahlia.”

“You do realize you are pitting me against all the criminals you wished me to bring in.  I assume that will go so well.”  Dahlia said with complete sarcasm.  Amanda finally began to relax, her elbows rested on the arm rests.  “I don’t care what their personal vendettas are against you.  You will all work together.  And soon, they will be just as special as you: a pain in my neck.”  Dahlia closed her lips tightly.  Done wasting her breath on needless arguing.  “I am your humble servant, she-devil.”  As Amanda was going to respond, Rick obtrusively walked into the brightly lit office.  “Whenever you’re ready.”  Amanda’s spiteful gaze ripped from Dahlia and softened at the sight of Rick.  “Are they all tagged?”  He nodded curtly.  “Perfection.  Take her to the courtyard.  I’ll be out there shortly.  Feed her to the wolves.”  With that, Amanda went to writing and Rick tore Dahlia from her seat and down a set of corridors that led to the early morning sun. 

The frigid air kissed Dahlia’s face sending a shiver down her spine, hardening her nipples.  What a wonderful day to not have a jacket.  She was uncuffed and directed to the open space in front of her.  Dirt crunching underneath her feet, she headed to the center of the courtyard.  A light breeze raised the hair on her skin.  Across the way she heard a male, hateful voice call out, “Well isn’t this a small world.  The bitch who put me in Belle Reve, ends up here too.” 

Dahlia turned to face the man who never misses.  “Oh, hey Floyd.”  She spoke with phony enthusiasm.  “You’re not looking so well.  Maybe it’s because you’ve been here for _so_ long.  Your daughter must miss you.”  A look of rage set on Floyd’s face.  He lunged at the woman stopping just short of her face, he was a good foot taller than her.  Dahlia shrugged her shoulders, “Hmm.” 

She turned around to walk away and immediately was greeted with a golden, toothy grin.  “Oi, well if it ain’t the sheila who fucked me real good in bed then fucked me again by sending me ‘ere.”  The “smooth charmer” bit his bottom lip greedily, licking his lips, and undoubtedly stared at her generous chest.  “I mean I know it’s a bit uhh… _nippy_ … out, but uh I’m gunna just assume ya excited to see good ‘ole Cap.” He leaned forward, his chops brushing the soft skin on her face, “Wanna go ‘round the corner and I’ll smash ya back out?  For ‘ole time sake.  Ya owe me a good one.”  Dahlia couldn’t help but laugh loudly, tilting her head back as if she was tasting the laugh before it exploded from her mouth.  “Oh ever the charmer.”  She looked around, seeing if they had any prying eyes, all but Floyd’s were occupied.  Slyly, she gripped the space in between his thighs, “Maybe next time.”

Dahlia removed her hand and crossed her arms across her chest.  She heard a disgusted grunt behind her and just as Digger was about to speak, Amanda’s booming voice was echoing in the courtyard.  All turned their eyes upwards toward the devil in heels.  “Criminals.”  She leaned her hands on the cold, metal railing, of course, looking serious as ever.  “Welcome to Task Force X.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much of a cliff hanger, but Dahlia and Digger "bump" into each other again. Woot woot! It's just all down hill from here. Please comment and kudos? I wanna know I have readers out there!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about you!! I've just been busy af and the last week has been very difficult. And well... admittedly, I started replaying Dragon Age Inquisition for the umpteenth time in a row AND I've been super addicted to watching the gameplay of The Evil Within, cause I'm to baby to play scary games myself. If you enjoy gameplay videos, Youtube TheRadBrad, seriously he is funny af.  
> Also, last announcement before you may read. I plan on writing a PREQUEL to George Harkness's story. Something before he became Digger/Captain Boomerang and Dahlia. I'm not an advocate for fast acting romances... cause let's be honest, it doesn't work. But in this story, Digger falls for Dahlia pretty quickly, the prequel will explain why. I'm actually pretty excited about it and have tons of ideas on how to play it out. It won't be long, but look forward to that. Anyway, here you go!

“I want us to create a… mutual trust.  That trust starts with the trackers in your necks.  They are also bombs.”  Dahlia chuckled, _mutual._  That _would_ be her definition of mutual trust.  Amanda stood straight, hands behind her back, gazing over all the _criminals_ making sure she was heard and heard explicitly.  The pep talk continued, “You take a step too far left, pop goes the weasel.  You take a step too far right, boom.  You take a shit without telling your commanding officer first, your head explodes.  A headache you won’t recover from.”  A deadly expression crossed her face, “You guys are mine now.  Rick.”  With that, she turned and walked back into the prison, leaving the lap dog to continue.

Rick held his automatic in hand, his pristine boots crunching the dirt beneath his feet.  His voice ringing throughout the courtyard.  “We will be going through a couple of training exercises.  You guys were dependent on working alone, but now we will work together.  Despite personal wants.  First we are going to pair up.”  He walked back and forth, analyzing the motley crew.  A few feet from Dahlia stood the queen of Gotham city herself.  Popping her gum and twirling her pigtails around her finger.  “I call the only other lady in the group.  She is pretty as pie.”  Dahlia turned her head towards the crazy.  Harley smiled large and waved at Dahlia with her long fingers.  Griggs stood up taller, nudging Flag.  “Oh yeah, I think crazy and psycho should totally be paired up.  Please for me.”

Ricked pushed off Griggs, giving him a disgusted look.  “Not like I care too much about your wellbeing, but I promise little Dahlia here will crush you instantaneously.”  Rick gestured to Dahlia with his automatic.  Harley withdrew, pouting playfully.  “Lawton, Dahlia go at it.” 

A sigh barely left her lips when Floyd didn’t even hesitate to lunge at Dahlia, but quickly she side stepped him.  “I’ve been waiting for this.”  They circled each other, watching each foot, each eye blinking, each breath taken.  A gun was thrown into the dirt, a smirk coming from Griggs.  Obviously, it was not for her, it was to make the playing field even.  Floyd reached for the gun, rolling towards the side aiming for Dahlia, but she lunged for him pinning him beneath her, rocks making imprints on his back.  With amazing force, she began to crush his windpipe beneath her palm, Floyd gasping for air, his vision becoming peppered.

When the earth began to give way under the stunning pressure, two gunshots rung loud, echoing in the courtyard.  Dahlia’s lungs struggled for air, blood seeping onto Floyd’s body beneath her.  Her grip on his throat loosened.  Falling next to him, she pulled her shirt up, exposing her torso, her stomach rapidly moving up and then sinking in, almost as if she was running a marathon, a slight trickle of blood slipping from the corner of her mouth.  The group stood in awe as Dahlia’s wounds began to heal, her breathing falling back into normal range.  Digger stood, toothpick in mouth with a smirk from ear to ear and all he could think was how turned on he was by this phenomenon. 

“You see, my Dahlia here is special.  She will be working with you.”  Waller was now standing near Rick, her arms tightly crossed.  “Back to your cells.”  Floyd was the first to move, brushing just slightly passed Amanda.  Dahlia lied on the ground, just catching her breath.  Amanda stood staring at the woman, her lips pressed in a hard line.  The homicidal cheerleader walked up to Dahlia and extended her olive colored hand.  Dahlia accepted the gesture and stood up with the help of the other woman.  “Super human strength and healing?  Sounds helpful, I know a couple uses where my Mr. J could use that.”  Without as much as a glance, Dahlia responded.  “I don’t work for Mr. J.”

“Nah sweetness, you work for someone much worse.”  Turning to walk away, Harley smiled, keeping suit with Dahlia.  “I know.”  Once inside the prison, Harley stopped Dahlia, turning to face her.  “I’m Harley Quinn.  And I like you sweetness.”  She stuck her slender hand out to shake.  “Dahlia.”  She shook her hand, no use being unfriendly to the psychotic Barbie.  “If you’ll excuse me, I have someone I need to meet.”  With that, the metahuman genuinely smiled, and headed off.  She had some steam to blow.

 

With a bang, Dahlia stormed into Waller’s office.  “You bitch.”  Without rising her head to address a very aggravated Dahlia, Amanda spoke, her eyes focused on the task on her desk.  “Just an hour ago, I was your mother.”  Dahlia scoffed, “Oh please.  You gave him a fucking gun.”  Finally, Amanda acknowledge the other woman in the room.  Her lips pursed, she took off her glasses and eyed Dahlia matter-of-factly.  “Yet you live, as expected.”

“Didn’t mean it fucking tickled.”

“Spare me the dramatics, Dahlia.  You are a grown woman, they don’t amuse me.”

“I’m sorry, being fucking shot is dramatic to you?  Why don’t you give it a try, or better yet let one of these starved for revenge crazies at you.  That’s something I’d pay to watch.”

“That’s unfortunate considering you’re on my payroll.”  Dahlia clenched her lips together, her tongue pressed to the back of her teeth.  With a chuckle, she was done.  “Your antics no longer surprise me, Amanda.”  Dahlia began to walk off only to be stopped by Amanda’s subtle words.  “Off to sleep with your new boy toy?”  Amanda fixed her glasses and put them back on her face, resting on the bridge of her nose, glancing at the paperwork below her.  “My dear Dahlia, so starved for love and gratification.” 

In a heartbeats time, Dahlia turned and slammed her hands down on the desk Amanda seemed to be so occupied with, shattering the desk into three.  “At least I have someone out there who wants to fuck me.”

“Just a _fuck_ , Dahlia, not to actually care for.”  Dahlia didn’t cry, but those words felt like stakes in her heart.  She was physically strong, she would be mentally fortified as well.  Amanda sat back in her chair, legs crossed, hands resting in her lap.  “But I don’t mind it.  Oh not at all.  Maybe I can use you against him.  Create an insurance policy…”  Dahlia stood ramrod straight, shaking her head and heading out of the room.  “... or him against you.” 

 

Dahlia walked up to an isolated cell, hearing the Aussie yelling.  With an authoritative tone, Dahlia spoke to the female guard.  “Open the cell.”

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you are but-…”

“Amanda Waller’s daughter, now step the fuck aside.”  With shock obvious on her face, the woman unlocked the door and stood aside.  As Dahlia walked into the room, she was met with a deep set smirk and darkened eyes locked on her.  His orange jump suit was hanging from his hips, leaving his top half completely vulnerable to her ogling.  Digger was the first to break the silence.  Gesturing towards the woman in front of him.  “Well, go on and strip for ‘ole Cap.”  Sensually, Dahlia pulled her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, her tongue brushing over her front teeth.  Painfully slow, she slid off her fitted black tee and Digger hissed.  His eyes making direct contact with her breasts, “If I died tonight, I’d fuckin’ die a happy man.”  As Dahlia slid off her pants, she bent forward, granting Digger more access to her cleavage.  “Well in order for, that to happen, you’d have to get on over here.”  And Digger did not have to be told twice.  His large palms gripped for life on her chest, earning a moan from Dahlia.  She spoke with a breathy whisper, “You first then me?”  Her consciousness was becoming cloudy as Digger slid his tongue down the line of her jaw.  “My pleasure… and yours.”  Dahlia laughed, her head hitting the door behind her, preparing herself for the release of her frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but I will make up for it. I have several later chapters done and they I are long af. As always a kudos/comment always makes my day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I have not forgotten about you. I've just had a major writers block between last chapter and a chapter that I had finished awhile back for later in the story. On top of that, I am trying to finish my Alistair story. For those of you waiting for the Legolas fic, I am slowly, but surely, writing the next chapter. I have had less motivation as of late, but I am not done with it! Please be patient. I don't picture this fic being anymore than 10 maybe 12 chapters but I am excited for the last few chapters, those are the ones I have done and polish up every so often.

Digger and Dahlia lied side by side, breaths in tune and even with one another, not an inch of skin touching.  “Damn Doll.  I think I love ya.”  The crook leaned into her, latching his mouth on her nipple while pinching the other.  “Even after I turned you in to the Devil for a lifetime of misery?  I think you’re mistaking love with unsated lust.”  She splayed her fingers against his back but otherwise looked unfazed to his ministrations.  A muffled hum came from the man. 

After a few silent moments, Dahlia asked, “Why Digger?”  Digger’s brows furrowed in confusion.  He opened his eyes and faced the women below him.  “Why do you think I love you?”  He wasn’t about to get his dick torn off.  He was not about to say “because you remind me of someone” he used that line before and the crazy bitch almost singed his hair off.  No matter how true the words were, no woman wants to be compared to another.  But with Dahlia?  It was meant in the best way possible.

She laughed, sidling out from under him, propping her head of unruly locks on her hand.  “No you idiot.  Do you even know what love is?”  She meant it as a jest, but he answered as serious as Digger could ever be.  “Yes.”  Dahlia cocked an eyebrow and locked eyes with the burly man, surprised.  “’Ave you?”  He asked.  She clenched her jaw and looked at the ends of her hair, pulling a stray piece away from her and dropping it to the ground.  “No.”  She looked back at him, a small smiled perched on her lips.  “But you are getting away from my question.  I meant, why the nickname Digger.  What’s it mean?  Who gave it to you?”

“Ah.”  Digger rolled over on his stomach, his elbows beneath him, turning to face the woman.  Dahlia, biting her lip in satisfaction, was not unaware of his taught cheeks in plain view for her.  “I knew a sheila in grade school and we liked ta dig in the dirt.  No fancy story.”

“And so you used it as your code name for your _foreseeable_ criminal record, hmm?”  Digger smiled, “I’spose.” 

"Then I'm gonna start calling you George." Dahlia nodded her head to prove her point. “Hmm, a tiny Digger.  I can’t picture it.  I just picture a grown man getting into trouble, robbing banks, unkempt beards… fucks really well.”  A smirk crept on Digger’s face.  He took his arm and wrapped it around the woman next to him and tucked her beneath him, kissing her with unbridled passion and so unlike Digger.  “I think ya really underestimate me.  I’ve ‘ad six months ta think about ‘cha.” 

“What do you mean?”  He ran his hands up and down her soft curves, intentionally ignoring her question.  “Okay, tell me ‘ow ya got stuck up in this shit hole?  It’s my turn ta ask ya personal questions.” 

“Pft, that question was hardly personal.”  A tickle at her neck and a vibrating chuckle symbolled a long night of talking, them asking random questions about one another and testing their abilities to remember what was said.

**ANOTHER SIX MONTHS LATER**

“Pinned you again.”  Dahlia pecked Digger’s lips and hoisted herself off of him, extending a hand to the man still smirking at her while he lied on the dirt.  “I let ya best me, Darlin’.  Everytime.”  Dahlia rolled her eyes.  “Okay, George.”  He took her hand, a devilish smirk creeping on his face, gripping her hand hard.  Dahlia’s eyes widened, taking a grounding stance, “No Digger… No!”  He pulled her down, slamming her on the dirt next to him, caging her with his large body.  “Pinn’d ya.” 

“Oh please.”  She tiled her neck forward, meeting his lips with hers, smiling in to him.  “Ahem.”  A curt noise was heard only a few feet from them.  Dahlia peeled her lips from Digger’s, turning her head to face Rick.  “What?”  She asked innocently.  “I have mom’s blessing.”  She batted her eyelashes, running her hands up and down Digger’s back.  “Aye, no one likes a peepin’ tom.”  Dahlia turned to face the man above her again, giggling slightly.  “Unless their joining?”

“Not with ya, Doll.  No one gets ta have ya but me.”  He kissed her to seal his deal.  “Could you not please?  In the open?  Dahlia, come on.  She wants to see us.”  With that, he abruptly turned and walked into the prison.  Digger looked at Dahlia questioningly.  She just shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.”  She pushed Digger’s heavy body off and stood up, fixing her hair and brushing the dirt off of her shoulders.  Without warning, Digger smacked her backside.  Halfheartedly she reprimanded him.  “Ow.  What was that for?”  She replaced his hand with hers, rubbing herself to dull the sharp pain.  “Ya’ad dirt on ya sweet ass.”  She shoved him, “I’m sure that hardly helped.”  Digger lightly wrapped his arms around Dahlia, “Then maybe it’s a preview for tonight?”  A playful pout formed on her lips, “Maybe.  But mother calls.”  She released Digger and turned him away from her, smacking his butt the same he had done to her.  All she received was laugh, a promise.

 

“She finally decided to show up.”  Amanda tore her eyes from Rick to Dahlia.  “You don’t want to know what she was doing.”  Rick pitched in.  “Or who?”  Amanda asked questioningly.  With an irritable sigh, Dahlia rolled her eyes and placed herself in front of Wallers desk, standing next to a sitting Rick.  Waller handed manila folders to the duo.  “In and out, quietly.  There is a disturbance in the subway tunnels.  Some kind of force.  We are not sure what it is.  Read your dossiers prepare to leave within the hour.”  Without acknowledgement, Dahlia and Rick turned to leave but Amanda’s voice stopped them.  “Rick… Enchantress is going, she will be setting the bomb.”  Dahlia could feel the tension Rick was giving off.  He was not happy with the idea and while she was not fond of him, she understood why.  Waller used June as a means to control Rick, the same thing she will do to her if she gets too close to Digger… and she is getting dangerously close.

Once they were outside of the office and the door was shut, Dahlia turned to Rick and as a way to console him she politely asked, “Would you like me to give June her dossier?”  Rick didn’t look at her, just at the folder in his hands.  “No.”  Dahlia nodded and began to walk past him when she heard a quiet _thank you_ from the down-trodden man. 

The tunnels were silent with the exception of feet crunching old trash, rocks, and dirt deeper into the ground.  Their flashlights covered about 7 feet in front of them and the smell was rank.  Dahlia and Rick led the team forward, protecting the bomb carrier with June following close behind.  “I wonder what this phenomenon is.  The dossier was not clear.”  Dahlia had a bad premonition, this mission was not going to go as planned and they needed to be as prepared as they could.  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s dangerous.  I don’t have a good feeling either.  Here is the drop point.”  The crew stopped in front of a non-functional tram. 

Taking a moment to observe their surroundings, Dahlia felt a slight jolt, vibrating through the ground.  “Rick.” 

“I know… Tanner finish up with that bomb.  June… are you… ready?”  She just nodded solemnly.  “Enchantress.”  Quiet, smart, beautiful Dr. Moone turned into the murderous witch.  “I don’t trust her.” 

“Quiet Dahlia.”  Rick handed the witch the bomb, “When you see that, whatever it is, you know what to do.”  Compliantly, she nodded.  Not sure where to aim her pistol, the tremors were closer in frequency and throwing the crew off balance.  In an instant, the unknown made an opening appearance.  “Oh my God.”  A large black body, adorned with gold was charging right at them.  “Rick!” 

“Enchantress!”  The witch smirked evilly.  With nimble fingers, she turned on the bomb and disappeared along with the charging force.  “Oh shit!”  The crew ducked for cover, but only a few had survived the extreme blast, all happening so fast.  Pinned down by rubble, Dahlia coughed up unrested debris.  “Rick.  Are you okay?”  The dirt was making her mouth dry and unable to produce saliva.

In an instant, an untouched Enchantress was hovering over Dahlia.  She was sizing Dahlia up and down.  Brushing Dahlia’s cheek with the back of her hand she spoke just above a whisper.  “I will see you again, little Goddess.”  Then, like a whip of a wind, the witch disappeared.  “Fuck I could use some water.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same shit, different chapter. Kudos and comments. Thank you guys for reading! ^-^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I typed up this chapter in one night. I was watching Jai interviews (because I am this crazy obsessed woman who has a deluded fantasy that will we eventually marry) and I had an idea and it just flowed. This chapter is a bit different because it's neither Dahlia or Diggers pov. But let me know how you like it. I also have the last 4 chapters of this fic done and I'm super duper stoked to get them cranked out because they are probably my favorite chapters. The next few chapters are building up to those last 4 so look forward to that.

The sound of in sync rubber boots hitting hard concrete floors echoed loudly throughout all the prison walls as the squad was all forcefully taken from their cells.  The morning was still in its early hours as specific cells were raided and emptied of certain individuals.  Griggs walked confidently to the queen bee’s cell, laxing his rifle on his shoulder.  Resting his weight onto his right leg he smirked, vulgarly licking his lips. 

Harley was swinging from the bars of her cell like she belonged in the jungle.  Finally noticing the guard undressing her with his eyes, she ended her routine by hanging from the ceiling upside down, her pigtails swaying back and forth.  She gave him a full, bright smile and twisted the ends of her hair around each finger.  “Ah it’s so unfortunate you’re so fucking crazy.”  He laughed at his own joke, sighing when he finally stopped.  “Alright boys, be ready.  The bitch bites.”  Harley opened her mouth and swung her head back, laughing at his comment.  “But not too hard.”  Gracefully, she gripped the top of the cells bars and landed on her feet, all her motions controlled and slow.  She adjusted her prison clothing and turned to face Griggs.  Giving him a half smile, she held out her wrists in front of her and batted her charming eyelashes, showing him her submission.  Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue.  “I’ve played this game before.”

“Games!?  I _love_ games.  Especially the game of cat and mouse.  Ooh!  Or cops and robbers, I’m really good at that one.”  The killer tweaked her head gigging and her eyes sparkling.  “Dave, open the cage.”  One of the guards came forth, unlocking the series of locks caging the homicidal psychologist, followed by several other guards, all their weapons pointed at her.  She never moved, never placing her hands at her sides, but eyed them carefully all the same.  She easily picked her target, a young man who was newer to the prison and still lax about his daily duties.  She had found her unaware mouse who luckily had her handcuffs.  She smiled sweetly at him.  “Hiya.”  He kept his face hard, unresponsive to her greeting.  “Fine.”  Once he clicked shut one side of her cuffs, she punched him in the face with her other hand, successfully splitting his cheek open.  Turning her body, she elbowed another guard square in the jaw and wrapped her body around his back, squeezing his neck. 

Sighing, Griggs had his fun and nonchalantly grabbed his taser hooked onto the hilt of his belt and fired at the blonde, effectively subduing her.  Quickly one of the guards tightly hooked her arms behind her, bringing her to her knees, and clicked the handcuffs on tightly.  She looked up at Griggs, eyebrows furrowed together, her body moaning in protest to any movement.  Harley rolled her head around, her chin finally resting on her chest.  A wicked laugh came from Griggs.  “Knock her out.”  Her head snapped up and renewed energy pulsed through her.  “No, no!”  She fought hard and was even successful in breaking the nose of one of the guards.  It took 6 men to pin the crazy to the ground, quickly piercing the skin on the side of her neck with a sterile needle. 

At first everything was silent then slowly turned into muffles of noises.  Harley blinked her eyes trying to adjust to the surroundings.  She tried to turn her head, but was met with resistance and found that it was secured in place with a piece of rough leather.  She was so exhausted and her body felt like dead weight.  Whatever they knocked her out with made her feel like she slept well into the next century.  She tried to take in her surroundings, trying to figure out where she was.  Testing the resistance, her wrists, torso, legs, and feet were tightly strapped down to a dolly wheeling her through a set of long corridors. 

Finally, she was met with the bright, outside light causing her eyes to force shut.  The chilly breeze ruffled her skin.  The vibration on her phone went off and she smiled seeing a text from her Mr. J.  Turning to Griggs, a maniacal giggle escaped her throat.  “You’re so screwed.”

“What do you mean by that?  Harley, what do you mean by that!?”  And the laughing just continued.

The front courtyard was bustling with busy bodies preparing for transportation.  Taking in her surroundings, she noticed all of her comrades, the criminals.  Each was being treated as a feral animal would be and Harley was disgusted.  She might have lost all her morals and had a very muddled sense of right and wrong, but she was still aware of human decency and how each being should be treated.  Just sometimes it was with a shot of whiskey and a bullet to the head.

Each criminal was loaded onto their own car, or highly secured van in her case.  “Where are we goin’ fella’s?”  Breaking the silence with her taunts, she continued.  “Takin’ me on a date?  I need to get out of that dreaded prison for a time.”  Griggs kicked the dolly behind her.  “Shut it Barbie.”  Harley pressed her lips together, making her cutest pouty face.  “I thought we were making progress Griggsy?  You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”  A slight noise was heard behind her as Griggs moved up to the metal dolly at her back.  Wrapping his arms around her chest, he ran his pistol along her jaw.  “Mines pretty big.” 

“And mine is bigger.”  She responded with sugar in her voice.  He snorted, taking his place on his seat behind her. 

The ride was bumpy and quick, the driver obviously rushed to their rendezvous point.  She was ushered out of the van and roughly released from her straps.  “Thanks fella’s!” and on she skipped to where a few others waited.  Floyd eyed her cautiously.  “Hi boys!”  Harley stretched her arms.  “Harley Quinn, how ya doin’?”  She extended her hand.  “Huh?  What was that?  I should kill everyone and try to escape?”  She smiled.  “Sorry.  It’s the voices.  I’m kidding!  Geez.  That’s not what they really said.”  Innocently she twirled her hair. 

Rick rolled his eyes and glanced to the side of the team, resting his arm on his rifle.  “What do we got here?”  He walked over to a few soldiers who were carrying a fighting bag.  “Twelve pounds of shit in a ten pound bag.”  His comrades dropped the sack on the ground cutting the top of it open and out popped a primed Digger.  “Welcome to the party Captain Boomerang.”  He quickly threw off his confines and landed a solid punch to the nearest soldier.  Quickly restraining him, Rick put hard pressure on Diggers throat.  “Aye hey, hey, what’s going on man?”  Rick wasn’t even sure himself if he disliked Digger on principal because he had a thing with a fellow soldier or simply because he found him annoying.  Maybe it was a little column a and a little column b.  

“Calm down.” 

“Hey, one minute I’m playin’ mahjong with me Nana, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere.”  Rick’s face was not amused.  “Shut up.  You were caught robbing a diamond exchange… and you’ve been in prison for months.”  He shoved his arm further into Diggers throat.  “I was not.”  Digger clearly looked offended.

A soft, exasperated voiced answered.  “Rick, must you be so rough?”  Digger’s face softened the minute he heard his Dahlia.  Her arms were crossed, pushing her chest closer together and her weight rested on her right hip, slightly cocked out.  Long black waves were pulled back into a tight ponytail with just enough hair to frame her face.  She was ready for a fight, armed to the teeth, and her face was not pleased.  Rick still had not moved.  “Aye, luv, where ya been?”

Dahlia rolled her eyes, sighing.  “Around.”  She had been gone for three days since the incident in the subway tunnels, preparing for this mission.  Gesturing to Rick with her hand, she clicked her tongue.  “Can you let him go now?”  The second the pressure was loosened from his throat, Digger pushed Rick out of his way and waltzed over to Dahlia, putting his hands on her hips, a smirk plastered from ear to ear.  “I missed ya, Doll.”

“You missed the sex.”

“And the sex.  Let me take ya out-…”

“No.  Don’t finish that sentence.”  She began to walk away but Digger always had to have the last word.  “And smash ya back out!”  He called out after her.  Dahlia bit her lip to keep her from smiling, but the urge was too strong.  Running a hand over her face, she joined the other shady persons waiting for directions.

Harley skipped up to Dahlia, wrapped her arms around her shoulders and kissed her smack on the cheek.  “You’ve been gone an awful long time, Dolly.  Got too good for us criminals?” 

“Yeah.  Cause you and I are polar opposites.”  She smiled at Harley, who smiled back in return.  “They say people who are sarcastic have higher IQ’s… and they ended up with you.”  She laughed at herself loudly.  Dahlia was going to reply, but the sharp cut off of Rick’s voice ended her thoughts.  Digger quietly took his place next to Dahlia, giving her butt a light squeeze before placing it back into his pants pocket.  Dahlia gave Rick her undivided attention as he went over each agenda, but couldn’t help to turn her ear to Harley’s whisper.  “And here we… go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone get my reference to Heath Ledger's Joker? He was probably the best. Same shit, different chapter. Kudos and comments. 
> 
> P.S.- Fun fact: I am not a DC gal.. I prefer Marvel all the way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a late response. I began school, a new job, and I was in a car accident and the pain medication they gave me makes me sick and effectively knocks me he fuck out... so I've been quite the busy gal. I also finished watching Frontier on Netflix and absolutely fell in love with it! So I started writing a Declan Harp fanfic and I literally wrote 3 chapters in 1 day because I was so enthralled with the show. You should totally watch it! I mean, aside from Jai Courtney, Jason Momoa is pretty good lookin. Anyways, you guys should read that fanfic too! Otherwise, enjoy chapter 6!

“There’s your shit.  Grab what you need, we are wheels up in ten.”  Dismissed, the team walked to individual cases with their names on them.  The sun was beating down hard, causing Dahlia to wipe a thin sheet of sweat from her brow.  During winter, this was extremely unusual but not unpleasant.  Dahlia followed Digger, placing a stick of spearmint gum under her tongue and thereafter, lighting a cigarette.   Digger turned, checking to see if she was following him. “Why do ya do that?”  She raised her eyes to him, exhaling a puff of smoke. “What?”  He gestured to her mouth.  “Eat gum an’ have a smoke?”  She shrugged, averting her eyes.  “I don’t like the after taste.”  Digger shook his head.  “Ya one weird sheila.” 

Digger squatted at his trunk, eyeing the locks, popping them open.  Quickly grabbing his clothes, he slid on his infamous blue coat and immediately felt pleasure from the feeling of it fitting him perfectly.  He had missed the feeling of being Captain Boomerang.  Two of his signature boomerang weapons sat at the bottom of the case and a sly, toothy grin crept on his face.  He reached for the weapons, feeling a hot breath on his neck accompanied by gentle kisses. 

Dahlia turned her head left then right, checking for gazing eyes.  Leaning over his back, she ran her hand lightly over the front of his pants, whispering in his ear.  “There is a secret spot between two tents over there and I want you and I between them… well and in between other things.”  She flexed her hand, earning a grunt from the criminal.  He hadn’t moved, imagining the sensations of what was about to come.  “Someone could see ya, Doll.”  To coax him, she slid her thumb in his waist band.  “Then don’t be loud.”

“I ain’t loud.”

“Oh, please.  You are.”  Licking the shell of his ear she ended her seductions with a gentle nip on his earlobe.  “And I love it.”  Digger sucked a lung full of air into his body, tightly grasping his hand over hers where it rested on his pants.  “Just show me where love.”  Digger could almost feel Dahlia’s sly grin across her face, but was quickly distracted by her breasts sensually rubbing against his back.  She lifted her chin and with her head, gestured to a small space in between two tents that crossed over one another.  They wouldn’t be seen unless someone intentionally looked that way.  The dirty risk sent a shiver down her back and settled deep into her pleasure zone.  “You see that space right over there?  Follow me like you would every day, but no touching.” 

She pushed with her thighs into a standing position, but not without dragging the front of her body across the back of his.  She took off, not checking to see if the bulky Aussie was following. 

Once in the tight space, Digger didn’t wait to grab her and hike a leg over his muscular hip, leaving a partial weight on her tip toes.  His large hands cupped her backside and gave it a solid squeeze.  “Careful George.  The tent material may be pulled tight, but still has potential to collapses.  Then everyone will see how much pleasure you give me and then where will we be?”  A malicious grin plastered over her lips.  Digger kissed her lips and made a journey down past her collar bone, in between the valley of her breasts and stopped at the waist of her pants.  “I am about ta pull somethin’ else pretty tight too.”  Dahlia closed her eyes and sighed at his dark promise. 

He quickly made work with her pants, slipping her right leg out of the tight, stretchy material but leaving her left fully clothed, placing the right on his shoulder.  He ran his nose along her sensitive flesh to the apex of her thighs, inhaling deeply.  “Ya look so sexy in all black, Doll.”  Digger ran his hand up her thigh and under her shirt, pushing it up above her chest and was met with an excruciatingly pleasurable surprise.  “No bra?”  Dahlia licked her lips.  “I decided to wait until last minute.”

Dahlia grasped his hand and placed it over one of her globes, interlacing her fingers with his and helping him massage her breast.  She leaned her head back over the thin material her breath beginning to come in small pants.  She placed her other hand on the side of his cheek, running her fingers through his gruff beard.  “I like you like this.  On your knees in front of me.”  He gave her a long, languid lick, earning a muffled moan from her. 

Digger continued his tantalizing ministrations, focusing hard on her pleasure button.  He ran his rough fingers over her clothed thigh and tickled the back of her knee making it weak.  His path continued upward to her core and when his fingers entered her warmth, a sigh of pleasure, relief spilled out from her lips.  Digger hummed against her netherlips while he rubbed the inside of her sex. “Ya very wet for me, Doll.”

“I’m always wet for you, George.”  He stood up, holding her leg in place, careful not to let too much of her weight rest on the material behind her.  He bent his neck down to meet her breast, latching on to the soft nipple in the center.  In one swift thrust, he pushed up into Dahlia’s body.  She slipped her hands under his coat and shirt, gripping his shoulders hard, effectively leaving crescent moons from her nails on his skin.  She caved into him, resting her head on one of his shoulders, peppering little kisses on his neck. 

Digger continued to move up into her, one hand on her backside and the other on her waist, both gripping her tightly.  He grunted as he felt her walls begin to flutter around him.  She ran her hands down his upper back her moaning becoming slightly louder and more uneven, breathier.  “George.  Oh god.  I-…”  Her hiked up leg pushed him closer and deeper into her as she spasmed around him, burying him within her. 

His ragged breathing quickly filled her ears.  Dahlia clamped onto his amber curls and pushed his head into her neck, trying to muffle his growing moans of ecstasy.  Digger bit down into the tender skin of her neck, squeezing his eyes tightly closed and stilling within her.  Their breathing was slowly returning to normal as he gave her a few jolts to finish off his orgasm. 

Digger raised his eyes to hers and stared openly into them.  Placing his thumb and forefinger on her chin, he brought her lips to his in a loving, compassionate kiss.  When he broke away, he rested his forehead against hers, closing her eyes.  Running his hand across her cheek, his voice was a breathy whisper.  “I love you, Dahlia.”  The words tugged her heartstrings every time, but she never repeated them to him.  She wasn’t ready to admit that Amanda could now effectively use him as a way to poke and prod her into submission.  How could he even love her?  In the beginning, she played him and volunteered him to live in a prison for the rest of his life and then some.  They hardly knew each other.  But damn Dahlia loved him.  An empty ache always entered her heart at the thought of never being with him.  This criminal.  An unlikely couple. 

Digger placed her foot on the ground, holding her in place to make sure she was steady on her feet.  When he was confident her legs were not wobbly, he crouched down and held her pant leg opening at her foot to slide her leg in.  Smiling up at her, he stood and buttoned her pants closed and adjusted her shirt. 

This Digger was the side no one saw.  This was the other part of him that made her heart tender for him and coaxed her to fall in love with him.  She placed her small hand on his cheek and gave him a chaste kiss.  “I’ll meet you at the chopper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same old same old. KUDOS AND COMMENTS PLEASE! Subscribe if you like! ^-^


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since being in my car accident, I found out I broke the worst bone in my foot to break and I am on a 2 week leave from work until my next docs app. Well I have found much time to write since I can't do anything weight bearing. Meaning I'm stuck in my home until my foot is healed. I'm trying to crank out as many chapters as I can before I start work again. Luckily, I have ample time between school and writing my other fanfics. If you haven't yet, you should totally watch Frontier on Netflix then head over to my profile to read my Declan Harp fanfic. Cause Jason Momoa ya know?

The turbulence kept jolting the helicopter making Dahlia’s stomach turn.  Placing her head in her hands, she let out a sickly groan.  “Air travel doesn’t do ya good?”  Floyd laughed at her misery.  Without raising her head, she lifted her middle finger to him, dropping her hand on her legs.  “Right back at ya.”  Floyd countered.

Harley leaned over, whispering in her ear, “Here, mint gum.”  Dahlia looked over at the woman’s extended hand, seeing her own pack of chewing gum.  Eyeing Harley, she took the pack.  The pigtailed woman just smiled brightly at her.  “Ya don’t pay attention much when you’re sick.  I felt bad.”  Dahlia shrugged her shoulders and chuckled, “Thanks, I s’pose.”  Harley patted Dahlia on her knee.  “Us gals gotta to stick together.  Isn’t that right China Doll?”  Katana just glared, then turned her eyes back to her sword.  Harley put on a playful pout.  “She seems fun.”  She nudged Dahlia.  “That’s Katana, she won’t give you the time of day.”

“But you will.”  Dahlia finally turned her head to Harley, nodding.  “Us gals have to stick together.”  Harley gave Dahlia a wide grin, leaning over her and encasing her shoulders in her arms.  “I like ya more and more, Doll.”  All the while, Digger watched the encounter, chewing on his bottom lip, grinning like an idiot.  Harley whispered, “How ‘bout you and the boomerang?”  Dahlia’s eyebrow piqued.  “What about?”

“You two seem cooozy.”  Dahlia smirked, her gaze on her knees.  “I thought that was obvious.”  Harley clicked her tongue, “I was, just bein’ nice.”  Unbuckling her safety belt, Harley quickly turned in her seat to look out of the window.  “Cool!  Look at the pretty lights!  Are you guys seein’ this?”  Everyone but Dahlia and the Croc moved to glance out of the circular window, they were content with staring at their feet.  Dahlia’s stomach began to get queasy again, the banter between Floyd and Rick sounded quite muffled to her.  “I’m a soldier… and you’re a serial killer who takes credit cards.  When the shootin’ starts, and it will, you’ll cut and run.” 

Floyd didn’t respond, just shaking his head.  Dahlia, through her sickness, piped up.  “Like you’re any different Flag?  You’ll do anything to please your master to keep June safe, right?”  It was Rick’s turn to not respond, just shaking his head as well and clenching his teeth.  Floyd hid a smile, appreciative for Dahlia’s quick statement. 

The next few moments were relatively peaceful until the pilots were shot and Dahlia felt her stomach ascend into her throat as gravity did its job and pulled the chopper to the earth.  Next to her, Harley screamed, but she herself couldn’t find her voice.  Beginning to panic, her breathing became irregular, in little pants.  Gripping her safety belts tightly, she squeezed her eyes shut and whispered a prayer. 

The moment happened in a flash.  The helicopter plummeted and crashed into the pavement, rolling several times before coming to a complete stop.  Dahlia heard shouting, boots rushing to the fallen machinery.  Everyone began to funnel out.  “Hey!  Wait!”  Harley shouted at the crew.  Digger was the first to come running.  “Fuck, Doll.”  A sharp, metal piece jutted out of Dahlia’s right shoulder.  “George, I need you to pull me forward, or I can’t heal.”  Digger looked conflicted.  “It will hurt me more if you wait.”  Biting the bullet, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her towards him.  Dahlia let out a small cry, but just as quick as the object impaled her, it was out.  She leaned on Digger for support while her body did its work.  “Ya okay, Doll?”  Dahlia nodded.  “Always fucking hurts.”  She rolled her shoulder, giving it a twist to see if it fully healed.  With a clap on the back, Harley was the first to exit.  “Woohoo!  What a ride!”  In the shadows, before either headed out, Digger grabbed Dahlia’s hand and kissed it, leading her out of the depleted chopper. 

As they walked through the deserted, but destroyed, streets, Digger never released Dahlia’s hand as they followed the rest of the group.  It was eerily silent for a city.  Only crackles of fire and far off car alarms could be heard.  The group stopped, aiming their weapons into a smoke-filled street.  Dahlia watched as Rick’s team took point.  Digger’s senses flared up, bringing Dahlia closer to his body with is arm around her shoulder.  She pushed him away and quietly walked up next to Rick.  Digger grinded his teeth together as he watched her take her place. 

“Amanda, we have hostiles up ahead.”  Dahlia stood silent, listening in on her ear piece.  “Rick get out of there.”  She turned to face Flag, shaking her head.  “We’re not here to fight them.”

“Copy that.”  Dahlia, reached for her holster, grabbing her hand gun.  Speaking quietly enough so only he could her, she urged on.  “Rick, we can’t leave.  We need to know what those things are, what we are up against.”

“We will do as we are told.”  Rick turned away from her, speaking to one of his men.  Everyone was on edge, shifting from left foot to right as a few soldiers split away from them an into a another side street.  The criminal gang stood by a car, speaking softly to one another.  “I like these odds mate, just say the word.”  Digger spoke to Floyd.  “You’d leave your girl here?”  Digger shook his head.  “Nah, mate.  Never.”  Floyd licked the front of his teeth, gazing at Rick.  “Yeah uh, hold that thought.”

Floyd broke away from the group, placing his special specs on his face, trying to get a good view of the enemies.  He approached Dahlia.  “The hell are they.”  She was leaning up against a car, facing him, her hand never leaving her holster.  “Fuck if I know.”  She responded.  “Cut and run I’ll blow your head off.”  Rick chimed in. 

As soon as the statement left his mouth, the monsters came charging and the bullets began to discharge.  The, what only Dahlia could call as bubbly, rocky monsters, came charging at them but were mowed down wave after wave until finally they broke through the machine gun line.  Dahlia fell back, taking in her surroundings.  She unleashed her bullets at the monsters, making every one of them count.

A creature encroached up behind Dahlia, wrapping its solid arms around her, squeezing the breath out of her lungs.  Twisting her arm behind her, she grasped onto its bumpy head and squeezed with equal measure, shattering the solid rock of a head.  Taking a deep breath in, Dahlia had become surrounded by monsters.  Sheathing her handgun, she made a fist pounding hard into the pavement, sending rippling waves of energy in her immediate area, effectively obliterating the monsters surrounding her. 

Raising her head, she watched as Harley swung her bat back and forth hitting one creature after another.  Dahlia swiftly drew her hand weapon and shot at the creature running up behind Harley.  Hitting the ground with a thud, the pigtailed woman smiled at Dahlia, waving her bat around.  “Thanks, sweetheart!”

“Get off me!”  Dahlia turned her body to find Rick being pulled off into an alleyway.  As much as she disliked the bastard, she wouldn’t let him be taken off to whatever end these monsters had.  Sprinting to him, she heard quick bullets being shot around her as Harley joined Dahlia to save Rick. 

The waves of creatures kept on coming, but the fight in them never ceased.  Having enough, Floyd finally decimated the remaining enemies.  Dahlia snorted, waving her arms in the air.  “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”  Jumping down from the car he was standing on, Floyd walked towards the rest of the group.  “Was deciding if I wanted to let ya’ll be killed or not.”  As he walked past her, she shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t blame him. 

Dahlia turned after Floyd, searching for Digger and finding him in an alley, reaching for a pink unicorn.  “Pinky.”  Creeping up behind him, she reached for the toy.  “What is that?”  Startled, Digger stood up, hiding the toy under his overcoat.  “Nuthin’.”  Dahlia stood in front of him, smiling sweetly.  Rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh, he gave her the toy.  Running her hands over it he defended himself.  “It’s soft a’ight.  A man in a prison doesn’t ‘ave much soft things, don’t he?”  Dahlia smirked, biting her lip and leaning into him.  “That hurts my feelings, George.  Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret.”  Sensuously kissing his neck Dahlia leaned away from him and placed her tongue between her teeth, tilting her head.  “Let’s go brony.”

Dahlia headed towards the group.  Shaking his head, Digger quickly leaned forward, placing a hard smack on her backside.  “Ya better keep ya mouth quiet or-…”

“You’ll shut it for me?  Oh, please George, you know how much I’d enjoy that.”  Laughing, both walked closely together, occasionally bumping shoulders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, kudos, subscribe! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright (insert Matthew McConaughey's voice here). I am sorry for the wait, but I decided to finish my Frontier fic considering I had only about 1 chapter left. BUT to make up for it, I have posted FOUR chapters for your pleasure. So without further ado...

Dahlia walked side by side with Harley, listening to her raging on about utter nonsense while Digger walked closely behind, his eyes glued to Dahlia’s backside.  Despite the situation, Dahlia enjoyed the conversation.  Her arms were crossed below her chest as her feet kept in step with everyone else.  Dahlia began to think about what life would be like after they rescued Amanda and Enchantress was reigned in.  She didn’t want to work for the government any more.  She wanted a life, a home.  In all her years, she never experienced adventure, aside from being Amanda’s toy.  Digger had extensively told her about Australia.  How the water was blue, the weather hot, and his culture.  She’d always just daze out and smile while listening to his captivating voice.  Her mind drifted to him.  He was serving a triple life sentence, he would never leave and her heart sunk.  They both were stuck in an endless pit. 

“I could get cha out, Dolly.”  Harley leaned over, whispering into Dahlia’s ear.  Unattractively, Dahlia opened her mouth with a dazed look, bringing her attention and eyes back to Harley.  “Huh?”  Abruptly, they stopped and Dahlia almost ran into Floyd.  “Alright.  You will wait here with Dahlia while I retrieve the POI.”  Dahlia turned to the group, with a light tone and a smirk on her face she spoke to the team.  “Well you heard the man.”  Floyd scoffed while Croc grunted. 

Digger snaked his arm around Dahlia’s waist, gripping her hips tightly.  “I’am ready for this ta be over.”  He kissed the top of her head.  Sighing, she quietly responded.  “It won’t ever be over.”

“I’ll be back.”  Floyd headed towards the door, speaking to no one in particular.  He stopped, glancing over his shoulder to Dahlia.  “Are ya gonna stop me?”  His eyes were hard, glaring at her.  She shrugged her shoulders signaling that she didn’t care.  As Floyd reached for the handle, she added.  “Just don’t be shocked about what you find down there.”  And the man disappeared.

Dahlia undid her hair and ran her fingers through it.  When she finally decided she had thoroughly scratched her scalp and the roots of her hair were on end, she pulled her hair tight atop her head and wrapped into a neat bun.  She stepped to the side and reached in a pack to grab water, taking big gulps until the bottle was empty and threw it into a trash can not far from her feet.  Not like it mattered.  The building was destroyed anyway.  The makeshift crew stood silently, waiting for their orders.  The silent Chato was the first to speak.  “Why did you tell Floyd to not be shocked?”  Dahlia turned her head to the man who never spoke and opened her mouth, but was cut off by the door opening to three figures, Amanda Waller being the last.

The group instantly turned their heads to the three, distain written all over their faces.  Harley quit swinging her body back and forth as Chato stood silent, but just as angry as the rest.  As if like dominoes, everyone stood, one after the other and closed in on their captor.  As if it would pacify them, Flag was spoke, “Let’s go home.”  Digger clicked his tongue a seriously look flashed on his face.  “That sounds good.  You guys want to go home?  Hmm?  Or you want to go back to prison?”  Digger rested is eyes on Dahlia.  Her head was bowed and her eyes were closed, clearly frustrated with this whole encounter.  He instantly felt saddened for her.  She had been bagged and tagged longer than they all had and he wondered if she knew what freedom was like.  “I’m not going back to prison.”  Harley half whispered, half spoke aloud.  “You knew.”  Digger half questioned half stated to Dahlia.  For the first time, she raised her head.  “Yeah I fucking knew.”  The criminals turned to her.  “And it wasn’t gonna make a damn bit of a difference if you knew then or knew now.  Well you fucking know now and it doesn’t change a damn thing.  She,” Dahlia pointed to Amanda, “is our fucking ticket out.  So, unless you want your brains blown out of your head, quit your petty revenge trip and shut the fuck up so we can move on.” 

Digger noticed how amiable to hostile Dahlia went, from hot to cold in 3.5 seconds.  He also noticed that she directed the comment mostly to him as her eyes bore into his own and that she didn’t say _home_ as Flag did.  “You made it this far, don’t get high-spirited on me and ruin a good thing.”  Sixteen pairs of eyes were on Waller again as she shook the small electronic that controlled their lives, back and forth while her thumb hovered over their faces on the screen.  Amanda confidently pushed her way past the small group who she thought beneath her and headed for the stairs.

Once they made it to the roof, the temperature had significantly dropped, raising the skin on Dahlia’s neck.  She paced back and forth, her arms folded under her chest and while Digger was mildly irritated with how she spoke to him, he still stood close by not saying a word.  They listened as one of the soldiers spoke on his com channel trying to signal the chopper and after the third try, Flag voiced what Dahlia was thinking and with a blink of an eye, everyone on that rooftop was running for cover. 

Digger pinned Dahlia against one of the metal power boxes as they crouched down, shielding their heads until they could identify the situation but a gatling gun was effectively keeping them in their small, safe spot.  Dahlia heard a demented laughter over the raining of bullets and she instantly knew who it was and her eyes fixated on Harley who sported a massive smile.  Harley turned her eyes to Dahlia and winked, standing up and walking to the bird unafraid. 

When Harley was safe from the greedy clutches of Amanda Waller, the gun show had ceased, leaving only the chopper blades to be heard.  Digger stood first, checking to see if the coast was clear and when he deemed it safe, he extended a hand to Dahlia who was more than happy to accept his hand.  “Deadshot.”  Waller stomped over to Floyd, like a child who was having a temper tantrum.  “Shoot that woman right now!”  Floyd had a _what the fuck_ look on his features, shrugging his shoulders, he denied.  “She ain’t do shit to me.”  Squaring up, Amanda parried back. “You’re a hitman right?  I’ve got a contract.  Kill Harley Quinn.  Do it for your freedom and your kid.”  Floyd looked like that he was okay with that deal.  “Oh she dead.” 

Dahlia took a step further, but Digger held tight to her hand, shaking his head.  He agreed with Floyd.  Harley didn’t do shit to him, but he was going to protect Dahlia first before she jumped head first into concrete with Waller. 

Floyd lined up his sniper, taking a few deep breaths until a deafening shot rang in their ears.  Dahlia, too afraid to look, raised her eyes to see Harley hanging there, limp as a doll.  A smile creeped up on Dahlia’s lips, she knew better.  She also knew logic and that the sociopath would have lost the fight against gravity and plummeted to the earth below had she been killed.  No later than the second Dahlia thought that, a far off giggle was heard from the girl.  Floyd turn, aimed his gun down, and with a smirk told, he told Amanda he missed.  As Floyd walked past Digger, he squeezed Dahlia’s hand in reassurance and rewarded Floyd with a praising comment.

Dahlia’s stomach dropped when not even three minutes later, their bird was blown from the sky, effectively killing anyone on that chopper. 

Of course, Waller saved herself, leaving everyone on the bitter rooftop.  Digger turned to Dahlia once Waller disappeared.  “What crawled up your ass back there?”  Dahlia shook her head.  “Someday soon, Amanda is going to use you against me.  I’m just trying to give her less ammo.”  A loud explosion had them turning their heads to see Waller’s bird go down.  “Fuck.”  Dahlia whispered.  Exhausted and clearly frustrated the group of misfits followed Flag, down the long set of stairs and to the drop site. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subscribe, comments, kudos!


	9. Chapter 9

Like someone may snatch her away, and it was a very real possibility, Digger never released Dahlia’s hand as they walked to the crash site.  He mentally chastised himself.  PDA was never something Digger was into.  But with Dahlia, he couldn’t seem to help himself and he didn’t give a fuck who saw or about their opinions that inevitably followed. 

Dahlia abruptly stopped in the rain eyeing a forlorn Harley waiting for them on the roof of a car.  When she finally noticed the others, she forced a smile and stretched her arms above her head.  “Hey guys, I’m back!”  Her voice was cracked as if at any moment, she may cry.  “I missed you all so much.”  She gave a half genuine smile to Dahlia and climbed off of the car. 

When they finally found the crash site, it was declared that Amanda, not even her body, was on the premises.  “That means she walked off or someone took her.”  Dahlia eyed Rick and he nodded at her point.  “Okay regroup.”  While all the others huddled together, Floyd searched the wreckage finding incriminating evidence on Flag.  Needless to say, it ended with the criminal group and even Katana, leaving Rick alone to his own thoughts while they abandoned him for a nearby bar. 

They sat there quiet as a morgue while Harley pretend to play bartender.  All Dahlia could think of was the song Piano Man and chuckled to herself.  Snatching a piece of wet spearmint gum from her pocket, she hid it under her tongue while she lite an equally damp cigarette between her lips.  She took a drag while Harley began to interrogate Chato and he divulged in his life with a long monologue and when he was done, Dahlia had never heard Harley say a harsh word in her life, she was crazy but not harsh.  “You killed them, didn’t you?  Own that shit.  Own it.”  Dahlia’s head snapped up and after a little hostility turned to playful banter, Harley began to ask Dahlia to tell her story. 

“No.”  Dahlia promptly denied.  “Awe come on Dolly.  We are all spilling our personal lives.  Why aren’t you a joinin’?”  The homicidal Barbie taunted.  Dahlia gripped her water.  “What if I don’t wanna spill my sob story just so you can tell me to “get over it”?” Harley tilted her head so sweetly, “Dolly, you can take my criticisms.  You are so strong.  I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”  As to prove a point, she batted her eyelashes.  Dahlia sighed, rolling her eyes and pounding down a shot of tequila and a glass of water shortly after.

“Amanda said I was found abandoned as a small child.  Though I don’t know how much of that is actual truth.  I remember a woman with dark, black hair and her telling me I reminded her of him.  Though for all I know it could be a memory I created for myself… to comfort myself.  Why not believe what Amanda tells me?  I don’t remember anything past working for this shitty agency.  And Amanda?  She is the worst of them all.  Been alive longer than her.”

“Oh?  And how old are you lovely?”  Harley asked, genuinely curious.  Dahlia chuckled, swirling her water in the glass, “I stopped aging when I was about 21.”  The preppy woman leaned in but Floyd was the first to ask, “And how long have you been 21?”  Dahlia cleared her throat, outside of Amanda and a few higher up agents, no one knew her true age.  “Oh, since about August 17, 1940.”  Digger choked on his drink, spewing beer everywhere.  “Ya mean ta tell me… I’ave been fuckin’ an old woman?”  Harley giggled, clasping her hands together, “Oh Gorgie-Porgie!  Ya like those cougars?  I could see it.”  Dahlia lit a cigarette and popped a piece of her usual mint gum in her mouth.  Tucking the gum under her tongue and taking a long drag, the end of her cigarette colored a bright orange glow.  She exhaled the toxic smoke and began to chew her spearmint gum.  “Tactfully put Digger, though you haven’t complained.”  She didn’t even look at him. 

Dahlia took another inhale of her cigarette, holding it in her lungs, feeling a burning sensation.  “What difference does it make?  I ain’t any better than the lot of you and whoever my family is… _was_... is long dead.” 

The bar door opened and in stepped a down-trodden Rick. All heads turned to flash dirty looks his way, all but Dahlia.  It was almost like deja-vu for her.  The pretend bartender clicked her tongue, “We don’t want you here.”  Plopping down on a seat next to Floyd, Rick set his rifle on the bar. Almost like he didn’t hear Harley, he robotically responded, “There is a part in that binder that says I was sleeping with her.”  Chuckling, Floyd was the first to respond, “Yeah… I’ve never been with a witch before, what was that like?”

Inhaling down on the last of her cigarette, Dahlia followed suit and chuckled at Floyd’s comment.  Not even amused, Rick continued, “The only woman I’ve ever cared about, is trapped inside that monster...”  Digger glued his eyes to Dahlia, her eyes locked on Rick, lips slightly parted, imagining what it would be like if the situation was turned.  He was certain that he would take the same course of action Rick is doing.  He was known to not “work well with others”, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t give her all he had.  Rick’s voice broke through his trance, “If I don’t stop her, everything is over.  Everything.”  With that brooding comment, Rick took the control panel on his wrist and smashed it against the corner of the bar. 

Without a second’s breath, Digger stood up from his seat and headed towards the door opening it but paused to face Dahlia.  “Doll… Dahlia.  You’re free.”   Dahlia tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear, staring down into her water, licking her lips.  Taking a deep breath and smashing out her cigarette butt in the ashtray she stood up to follow Digger, but what happened next, she could never anticipate.  Rick’s voice was quiet, but Dahlia would never miss his words.  “Amanda knows who your mother is.  Who your father was.”  Dahlia suddenly felt like a ball and chain was shackled to her ankle, anchoring her in place.  Almost in a whisper, she choked out, “What?”

“I said-…”  She yelled this time, turning to face him.  “I heard what you said!  You _said_ that bitch knows who my mother _is_ and who my father _was_.  Rick, don’t fuck with me, what are you insinuating?”  Without a hesitation, Rick looked Dahlia in the eye for the first time and spoke clearly.  “Your mother is still alive.”  The breath left Dahlia’s lungs like she took a punch to the gut.  It wasn’t completely unlikely that one of her parents were still alive, she is.  Tears welled in her eyes, but not stemming from any happiness, but the anger that lingered in her like hot coals.  With four long strides, Dahlia pulled her arm back and nailed Rick in the face, knocking him from his stool.  She led her left knee to the ground and placed her right foot on the other side of his body, pinning him to the ground.  With her hands she grabbed his shirt collar and just below a scream, got into his face.  “Who is she!?”  When he didn’t respond, she shook him, and shouted at him again.  “Rick, who is she!?”  When he still wouldn’t respond, she dropped the top half of him to the ground like a sack of flour and stood up, balling her fists at her side.  “Coward.”  She spit at him, then promptly walked out of the bar.

Digger followed her without delay, his hand placed on her shoulder.  She rudely shrugged him off and with an animalistic cry, she took the nearest car and threw it down the street.  Digger’s eyes followed the car, and when he heard the crash, he finally spoke, “Well darlin’, ya don’t have to have a temper tantrum to get me affections.”  Dahlia fell to her knees, the tears she held back, finally burning down her cheeks.  “Digger, my mother is still alive.  Do you understand what that means?”  Without a care, he shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his beer.  “I’dunno.  She’s ahh, old and wrinkly?  Like you should be?”  Dahlia’s hands gripped the curb, supporting her weight, and crushing the dry cement beneath her.  Disregarding his comment, she continued.  “George, it means she is a metahuman.  Like me… she is like me.  My family.”

Digger sat down next to her, crushing his can and tossing it somewhere beside him.  “Nah Doll, ya got me.  I’ll a be your family and I ain’t all for that shit cheese stuff.  I just get uncomfortable when my girl is cryin’.  The only time you should be cryin’ is when I got my di-…” 

“Really, George?  Now?”  He took his hand and squeezed her breast, giving a demonstration.  “Of course darlin’.”

“It’s not the same, the family shit.”  He worked his hand down to the juncture between her thighs, applying light pressure.  “I mean, if ya want, I can plant my spoof in ya and we really can have our own family.”  He licked his lips in a teasing gesture.  Dahlia forced his arm away from her, “Yeah right Digger, you can barely take care of yourself.”  He laughed a hardy laugh that delightfully echoed in the empty street, taking his arm and wrapping it around her shoulders, kissing her cheek.  “That’s why I’ave you, Doll.”

Dahlia smiled and leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes.  “Forever.  Well, at least until you croak or Amanda decides she is done with you.”  He smiled, tightening his fingers on her shoulder. “So, I’ve been bumpin’ uglies with an old sheila.”   She softly elbowed him as they shared the same echoing laugh. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A soft side to George Harkness. TBH, I LOVED writing this chapter. To me, a woman's love can destroy or empower a man. It is a beautiful and tender gift to have.

All seven of the Suicide Squad members ran into the building that had just recently became their final destination, aligning themselves behind marble pillars shielding them from debris that the witch spewed.  Digger and Dahlia panted, backs against the cool stone.  Peering around the corner only to be met with a gust of debilitating wind, shoving Dahlia back between Digger’s warm body and the hard pillar.  “Anyone have any ideas on how to handle this situation?  I’m tapped.”  Dahlia was only met with silence from the crew.  “Guys.”  She turned her head to the five on her right, speaking directly to the two who always had a plan.  “Floyd, Rick.”  No response.  Maybe they had not heard her.  She turned her head, gazing outside of the glass doors, thudding her head against the marble.  “Fuck.” 

Slowly, a hand coiled around her left, gripping her tight.  Dahlia glanced at the pair of hands wrapped around each other then back up at the owner.  “George?”  Unresponsive.  More forceful, she repeated his name.  “What the fuck?  George!” 

“He cannot hear you, little goddess.  None of them can.”  The witch’s voice slithered to her ears silencing all around her but that very specific, feminine sound.  Dahlia turned her head slightly to her right, calling out.  “What did you do to them?”

“I’m showing them what they could have if they join me.  Would you like to see?”  Dahlia was going to protest but was instantly transported to a brightly lit bedroom with the curtains drew back.  A fluffy, king sized bed with a plush white comforter and pristine sheets sat in the middle of the room and in it, a woman in red lingerie with equally red, lush hair.  She lied on the bed as if she was a predator waiting on her prey. 

As if on que, the bedroom door clicked open and in walked a tall man with broad shoulders, a burly beard, and curly brown hair.  “George?”  It was a whisper, but the two other figures could not hear her, let alone see her.  Sensually, the woman on the bed used her fingertips to lightly touch her body, running up and down the length of her curves.  She rolled her head to the side, batted her long, dark eyelashes, and threw he hair over her shoulder, exposing her barely covered, curvaceous breasts.  Like a slithering snake, she spoke.  “Oh Digger, I’ve been waiting for you lovely.”  She rolled onto her stomach, intertwining her feet together and wrapping a lock of hair around her finger.  She had an Australian accent as he did.

George looked confused, his brows parted and lips slightly ajar, but he did not seem displeased.  “What are you doing here?”  The siren tilted her head and in an innocent voice, responded.  “What do you mean, Digger?”  George crossed his arms staring skeptically at the woman, “You’re dead?”  Rolling back on her back, a feminine chuckle left her mouth.  “Obviously not.  I’m right here.”  He was at a standstill.  His body stiff and his legs shoulder width apart.  “No.”  His voice was gruff and commanding.  The woman sat up on her knees, hands between her legs.  “What do you mean no?  You said you loved me.  What, now you don’t want me?”  The woman was clearly insulted and her eyes almost matched her hair.  A cold, hard _never_ was his only response before Dahlia blinked and was transported to another scene.

She was settled under the same covers in the same bed, but a different décor.  It was more… homey.  Her back was cool but the front of her body was scorching hot.  Looking down, she wore a large, gray, male tee and black underwear.  Dahlia went to push away but was met with a stern resistance.  She craned her neck upward to find the source and was met with steely eyes.  “George?”  Before more was said it was like she was watching herself from third person, but she still was still on the bed with Digger.  It was a foreign feeling but she continued to watch and experience.   A signature smile appeared on Digger’s clean shaven face and Dahlia couldn’t help but sigh.  She loved his gruff, but with no hair to hide his skin, she found she could not tear her eyes from him.  His eyes were more prominent, more beautiful in depth, younger.  He even didn’t have his gold tooth.  Dahlia ran her fingers down the side of his softened cheek bones and brushed her thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it slightly.  Every detail so new to her.  “G’mornin’, Doll.”  He leaned down to place a fervent kiss on her lips and she responded by gripping his face harder, pulling him to her.  Dahlia could feel every sensation.  Digger threaded his left hand through her right and she felt a warm metal caress her skin.  Unwillingly, she broke the kiss and turned her head to see a titanium wedding band on his finger.  She took in a slight breath of air and lifted her left hand between them to find a silver wedding band on her own finger.  She stared and couldn’t stop.  Digger laced his left hand with hers and side by side the bands stood.  It was too real for Dahlia.  “I love you, Dahlia.  Always will.”  His deep morning voice echoed in her ear and vibrated down her spine, and settled in the pit of her stomach.

Suddenly, the bedroom door was thrown open and in ran two little boys in matching dinosaur pajamas.  “I guess we woke up too late.”  Digger playfully gripped Dahlia’s breast, earning a chuckle from her. “Mommy!  Daddy!”  The first boy to jump on the bed was a boy with curly brown hair no more than 7, followed by a little boy with black curls who couldn’t have been older than 5, but both possessed Digger’s features.  “Ah, Caleb, Levi carful of the knees please!”  Her own voice surprised her.  Caleb?  Levi?  She knew these names without even thinking.  “Well, come on Avery.”  Spoke the two boys.  Dahlia turned her head to find a 3-year-old girl who looked exactly like her in the doorway.  She was quietly sucking her thumb and tightly holding her blanket.  She wanted to cry, but a familiar feeling over took her.  A feeling of unconditional love.  Dahlia held out her hands towards the girl and she instantly ran toward them.  Once at the bed, Dahlia lifted up the little girl and snuggled her close to her chest, kissing her forehead.  In a small whisper, the girl spoke.  “Hi, Mommy.”  She plopped her thumb back in her mouth. A string tugged at Dahlia’s heart.  “Good morning, baby.”

Dahlia turned to Digger, love and admiration flooded her eyes.  He was roughhousing with their boys, the blanket’s slowly falling onto the floor beside them.  After Digger got nailed in the face, he turned to her smiling so big and brightly and she couldn’t help but smile back.  “I love you, George.  _Always have_.”

In a heartbeat, Dahlia was back in reality.  Tears spilling from her eyes.  Everything still silent.  “He wants a family.  He wants… my love.”  It was a whisper, but the witch heard clearly and spoke.  “Everything you can give him.  This is what he wants.  Just submit to me.  You of all, I need.”  With tears still in her eyes her voice was barely above a whisper.  “Why?”

“You are special.  Not just any metahuman, though I think you know that.  You and I are so much alike.  Submit to me, and we could rule this world like the gods we are.”  Dahlia clenched her hand and gripped the hand that held hers.  “I am no god.”

“Interesting.”  Chato’s voice filled the room.  “Wake up man!  It’s not real.” 

“Nah man, I want to kill the bat.”  Floyd was next to speak.

“Chato!”  Dahlia shouted to the man.  He glanced at her.  “Aye, you got a plan?”

“Nope.  Just wake the idiots for now.”  Dahlia turned to Digger, shaking him.  “George.”  All she was given was a moan of resistance.  “George!” 

“Hmm, the kids are downstairs.”  Dahlia rolled her eyes, bringing her hand up and slapping him hard across the face.  “Oi.  Damn, Doll.  Ya tryin’ to knock out my teeth?!”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s been pent up for a while and I finally found a chance.”  She smiled at him like she knew his dirty secret… and she did. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after this, there will be about 2 more chapters left, maybe 3. But don't forget that I'm also writing a backstory to Digger. Not sure when, but it will happen! And be excited for it.

The battle raged the moment everyone awoke from their fantasy dreams.  The team wanted to believe that they were kicking ass until big, black, and golden showed up and suddenly, human weapons did no justice.  It was going to take the whole team to bring him down but unfortunately for Dahlia, Enchantress still wanted to use her and wouldn’t risk her death.

It was her or them and she knew it.  Separated from the group, a charging golem toward her and a charging witch at them.  The witch strategically placed her in that position to where she would have to submit or die.  But the witch had no knowledge of the bomb that was 20 feet beneath them and she had no reservations that the bomb Rick planted would not blow her to smithereens.  Dahlia was incapable of dying from basic wounds, but she highly doubted she would survive a bomb dismembering her to an atomic level. 

She scanned the group for Digger’s face and found him beginning to running towards her.  Yelling unintelligible words in her general direction.  In that moment, she chose them.  She gave all her energy in erecting a strong enough mass effect field to shield them from the witch, but in turn would take it for them.  She turned to Rick, nodding at him.  He shook his head, jaw clenched but she didn’t have time to debate with him.  “Rick now!”  Ricked closed his eyes and placed two of his fingers to his ear.  Dahlia couldn’t hear him speak, but watched his lips move in an unsatisfied way.  She closed off the rest of her surroundings, focusing on the force heading straight for her.  

It all happened so fast.  Digger watched as a small crater swallowed the beast and his beloved all in one blast.  He fell to his knees, uncaring to whatever surrounded him.   No words came to him, if he could even speak in the moment.  In his faze, a muffled scream reverberated in his ear drums.  “Brother!”  No one moved, no one breathed.  The dust settled on the marble flooring, smoke cleared from the air.  Digger stared into his hands, the hands she was so accustomed to holding. 

What seemed like many moments past and while in a daze, Digger heard angry screaming.  “You!  You killed him!”  Dozily, Digger lifted his head to the wreckage and was pleasantly surprised to see his Dahlia crawling on all fours, coughing up dirt, face splotched with black.  Her bun was undone and her beautiful locks framing her face.  “Dahlia.”  Before he could process the miracle, the witch was already in front of her grabbing her by the throat and ramming an enchanted, jagged item deep into her chest.  “No!  Dahlia!”  Blood dripped from her lips, her eyes slowly became half-mast.  He watched the life drain from her face and fall with a sickening thud to the ground, sending him into another wave of grief. 

Astonished, the remaining 6 ran towards the limp body on the ground, Digger couldn’t move his legs fast enough.  “Enough!”  The witch’s voice echoed throughout the stone room, efficiently stopping everyone in their tracks.  “If you don’t want to end up like her,” she gestured towards Dahlia, “then stop this foolishness and submit to me.  My spell is complete.  Once you and your armies are gone my darkness will spread across this world and it will be mine to rule.”  Enchantress turned and began to show the them a demonstration of her power.  A blue light emanating from the cloud above her. 

No one moved, not sure how to proceed, just watching mouths agape.  Floyd yelled above the noise, “You got a move, Flag?”

“You gotta cut out her heart!”  Enchantress stopped, a murderous look on her face.  “For the last time, join me or die, like her.”  They all just stared at her, unmoving and strong in their stances.  Harley, from the few short months she knew Dahlia, had become close to her.  She was one of the few people who didn’t just see her as a crazy, but saw her for everything that was inside.  Her eyes went instantly to Digger, she understood his pain, both had lost their puddin’s in one night.  Then she glanced over everyone else, “I’m not much of a joiner, but… maybe we should.”  Floyd looked at her crazy.  “Hey, she is tryin’a take over the world.”

“So?  What’s the world ever done for us anyway, it hates us.”

“Hey, Harley!”  Floyd called after her, with no response.  “Hey lady?  Um… I lost my puddin’, but you can get him back right?"

“I can my dear, anything you want.”  Enchantress stalked towards the woman.  “Promise?”

“Yes, child.  You need only bow and serve beneath my feet.”

“I like what cha selling lady.  But there is only one teeny problem.  You messed with my friends.”  With a quick slash, Harley took Katana’s sword and sliced the witches heart out, gripping it hard in her palm.  In what felt like a slow series of events Floyd blew up the machine Enchantress created, plunging the room into silence. 

It was done, the dust had finally settled.  Digger ran to Dahlia, her body was limp in his arms.  Placing his hand on her cheek, he shook her.  “Dahlia!  Wake up.  You can’t leave me.”  In a raspy voice, the witch menacingly chuckled and called to him.  “You cannot save her.”  With eyes of fire and a colorful rage, Digger shouted to Rick.  “Crush her heart!”  Rick hesitated.  June, his June, was still in there.  “Do it!”  He fell into his memories, June’s voice telling him to always choose to kill the witch.  With a pained cry, he tore the witches heart apart and Enchantress’s scream joined his.  When all was done, he stood, down-trodden as the woman cemented. 

All was still, not even Digger’s whispers could be heard in the space.  It was hard to process all the events that had just transpired.  He began to look away when he heard Floyd’s voice.  “Hey, Rick.”  June was moving beneath the mud, finally freeing herself from the witch.  “June!” He ran to her, holding her close, breathing her in.  She tightly wrapped her long arms around his body crying beneath him.  He caressed her hair softly whispering sweet words into her ear.

Digger sat with his weight on his knees, clutching to Dahlia, begging any god to please do the same for him.  He rolled his head back, a pained expression evident on his face.  “George.”  His eyes found hers weakly staring at him.  “George.” He caressed her face, a small smile appearing on his lips.  “Dahlia.”

“George.  I love you.  _Always_ have.”  In a second, Digger held a dead weight in his arms.  “Dahlia, Dahlia… Dahlia!  No please.”  For the first time in many years, Digger began to cry, shaking her body lightly with his cries.  His shoulders shook as he brought her face to his chest, holding her tight to him.

Harley stared at the big and bad Captain Boomerang reveal his vulnerable side to everyone standing in the room and she knew exactly how he felt.  She bowed her head, steading her breaths, her heart began to pound in her chest and ache like it was being squeezed then briefly released.  She knew the deeply imbedded pain and now so did Digger. 

With a loud crash, the glass doors broke open and in raced 6 figures prepped for a fight.  A gust of settled dirt rolled in as all eyes turned to the new comers, tired but prepared to defend themselves.  In his grief, Digger pulled Dahlia tighter to him and he tucked his head further into Dahlia’s hair as if to hide from whatever was going to happen and inhaled but was torn from his anguish briefly to hear the shrill shriek from a woman.  “Althena!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is Althena and the screaming woman? Find out next time on Suicide Squad Rebooted. Subscribe, kudos, comments! Thank you guys!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi. Long time no see. Well I finally finished this chapter, and a lot is revealed about Dahlia. Please leave your little thoughts at the bottom!

“When are we going to the park, Mommy?”  The little girl dramatically huffed as her mother gently brushed the small tangles out of her daughter’s ebony hair.  A small, sad smile quickly passed over the woman’s features while her fingers began to tightly braid the little girl’s hair.  “I’ve told you, we aren’t going to the park, sweetheart.”  The girl crossed her arms, furrowing her tiny brows, and puckering her bottom lip.  A genuine smile, and a slight chuckle, crossed the woman.  “Well, where are we going?”  The woman tied a red, silk bow at the end of the intricate braid. 

Kissing the top of her daughter’s head, she answered slowly so the child could begin to understand.  “We are going to a cemetery.  Remember?”  The girl’s small facial features scrunched up as if she sucked on a sour lemon.  “Isn’t there were dead people are, Mommy?”  The woman made a grimace.  She kneeled to the girl’s level, running her large hand over the tiny girl’s face while brushing a small strand of loose hair behind her daughter’s ear.  “That’s right, baby.”

“Why would we go there?”  The woman dropped her hands into her daughter’s and stared at the little fingers holding hers.  “We’re going to go visit your father.”  The girl’s face softened and mimicked her mothers pain.  “Why is Daddy dead, Mommy?”  Taking a deep breath, the woman held her burning tears at bay.  With much strength, she looked up into the girl’s eyes, seeing his.  “He was a hero, baby.”  She squeezed the girl’s hands.  “And he would have loved you so much.”  They both shared a smile.  The woman pushed herself to her feet, pulling her daughter with her.  “You ready?”  The little girl nodded and held tightly to her mother’s hand. 

Suddenly, gun shots rang out loudly in their ears from outside the small apartment building.  The woman quickly covered her daughter.  Her deeply imbedded purpose to protect her offspring.  The girl covered her ears with her small hands, barely making a dent in blocking out the frightening sounds.  “Mommy!”  She cried, tears staining her rosy cheeks.  The woman tried to wait for a break in the gun fire, but it did not come.  Pulling the terrified girl behind a small desk, she tried to speak loudly to the girl so she could hear.  “Stay here!  Do not move!  I will be back, okay?”  She caressed the girl’s warm cheeks with the pad of her thumbs. 

The girl wrapped her little hands tightly on her mother’s forearms, almost crushing them with brute strength from her fear.  “Mommy!  Don’t go!  Mommy please!”  The woman cried, shaking her head.  “I promise I’ll be back sweetheart!  I love you.”  She began to pull away.  “Don’t move!  Stay hidden!”  In less than a heartbeat, the woman was quickly out the door and into the fight.

The frightened girl heaved, her little lungs barely able to take in any air as she obediently listened to her mother and waited, hidden in the shadows of a large, mahogany desk.  The gun fired slowed, but never ceased when she heard the creak of the front door opening.  She peeked her head from around the corner and blinked in confusion when she didn’t recognize the stranger at the door, hiding once more.

“I know you’re there sweet one.”  A gentle woman’s voice rung out, but it wasn’t her mother’s.  “You don’t have to be afraid.  Your mom sent me for you.”  Smartly, the little girl stayed quiet, hugging her knees to her chest.  “She needs you to come with me.  Your Mommy has been hurt.”  Quiet footsteps quickly became louder as they approached her secret place. 

The stranger crouched down, tilted her head, and with the most friendliest smiles spoke softly to coax out the girl.  “Hi there.  It’s okay.  I want to take you to your Mommy.”  The girl shook her head, burying her face in her knees.  “Mommy said not to talk to strangers and wait for her here.  I want my Mommy.”  Extending her hand, the woman again spoke.  “I’m not a stranger.  I’m Dr. Navana Harris and I promise I’ll take you to your mom.”  The little girl finally looked up into the cerulean blue of the doctor’s eyes.  “Promise?”  Harris nodded.  Hesitantly, the girl let down her guard and reached for the hand extended to her, gripping it lightly.  Together, they walked out of the small apartment, out of the building, and unbeknownst to the girl, away from her mother.

Sometime later, the woman walked tiredly back to the one bedroom apartment when she noticed the door slightly ajar.  Her pulse quickened as she pushed open the door.  Her eyes frantically searched her immediate area for the small child.  “Sweetheart. It’s me, mama.”  She hurriedly walked to the desk only to be met with a small, mismatched section of the carpet where the girl clearly sat, the patch was cold.  Her breath left her lungs while she frantically searched the apartment, calling for the little girl.  When there was no place left to search, the woman fell to the ground and wailed.  “Althena!”

The memory assailed the woman with a punishing brute force as she watched her lost daughter hang limply in the arms of an unknown man.  An invisible momentum punched her deep in the cavern in her chest, dragging her to her daughter.  Her legs burned.  Breaking formation, she took off.  “Diana!”  Bruce called after her.  But she was solely focused. 

She approached the stranger who gently clung onto Althena, her baby, her daughter.  The man did not look up at her, instead she watched him bury his face deeper into her daughter’s hair as her limp body curled into his, coiling deeper into his evident grief.  Softly, she spoke.  “Give her to me.”  The man finally lifted his head, angry was not the only emotion she could see.  He was well married to his grief, his heartache, his sorrow, and a tinge of regret.  But mixed with all those emotions, Diana instantly found the deeply rooted love in this man’s tear filled eyes.  He loved her daughter and she would never forget this moment.  Watching his lips move, a cracked Australian accent filled her ears.  “Oi, go away.  Ya not takin’ her away from me.  Let me be in fuckin’ peace.”

Contrary to the look of his hand, he was gentle with her daughter as he stroked the black, unruly locks away from her face, placing a pained kiss on her forehead.  Diana didn’t move.  “If you want her to live… you’ll give her to me.”  The man looked up into her eyes.  Silently, he was pleading with her.  He craned his neck to glance at Althena once more and slowly he offered her body to Diana.  Quickly she fell to her knees taking her daughter in her arms. 

It was all so bittersweet.  The weight in her arms was not of a small child anymore, but of a grown woman.  Diana was devastated at the time she lost but was elated at the finding of her child.  Her emotions swirled through her into a circular whiplash.  Staring at her daughter’s features, she recognized so many of them as her own but knew Althena’s eyes were that of her fathers.  The beautiful pilot she met all those years ago.  This was her daughter, her baby, her extension of herself.  “Althena.”  She placed her hand gently over the puncture wound just above Althena’s breast.  “You may be human, but you’re also a god.”  A small golden light arose from under Diana’s hand.  “Come on baby, you’ll pull through.  You were always strong.”

The light was absorbed into her chest, leaving nothing but new skin there.  After a few long moments, Althena’s breathing brought a rhythmic rise and fall to her stomach, but her eyes never opened.  A wide smile took place over a serious frown.  Diana was more than elated.  Hugging her daughter to her chest, she cried all the emotions overwhelming her.  “Althena.”

Diana knew she should reassure the man kneeling across from her, but she was so wound in her own world she hadn’t said a word.  He was the first to speak, “Dahlia… she’ll live?”  Confused, Diana, lifted her head.  “Dahlia?  No.  Her name is Althena, Althena Diona.”  The man simply nodded in understanding but Diana continued, “She was taken from me, my daughter, so many years ago.  But I’d recognize her anywhere.”  She tightly gripped onto Althena’s hand.  “She is a god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Kudos, comments, subscribe!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayooo. So here is the last "official" chapter. After this one, I am going to do a short epilogue which I should have out tomorrow or Wednesday. Just a reminder, I am going to do a prologue on Digger before he meets Dahlia. When that will come out, I'm not sure, but stay subscribed to this fic and I will post when I finally released it! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking by me and reading this! Also, Happy Thanksgiving!
> 
> Love LittleDuckling

“How could you?  Take my daughter from me.”

“Technically, I did no such thing.”

“It’s all the same!  You withheld her from me.”  The first woman’s voice cracked and became distant, distracted.  An almost withered sound fell from her lips, followed by a hollow whimper.  “I knew you, they, whoever, had lied to me when I asked if they took, Althena, _my_ child.  Blatantly denied the knowledge to my face.”  Scoffing, the same voice hardened and was laced with a stinging rage.  “You took many years away from knowing and loving my child.  From watching her grow.  You should be riddled with guilt, Amanda.” 

Coldly, Amanda replied.  “I do not feel anything but the desire to pursue knowledge and protect our citizens.  You would not allow us to study Althena, Diana, and we needed to see if you would be a threat.  It was necessary.”

“She was a child!”  Diana’s voice grew and filled the room with thick, tangible anger.  “Was she allowed to play with other children her age?  Color works of art to have them admired by the ones she loved?”

“She was integrated, adequately socialized-…”

“You’re a cold, heartless bitch.”  Amanda shrugged, “I’m sure your daughter has said the same thing.”

Underneath Diana’s fingers, Dahlia twitched out of her residual coma.  Diana’s hand moved to her daughter’s forehead and gently caressed the lightly coated sweat of skin.  Dahlia’s brows tightened and relaxed as she began to slowly awaken from her deep slumber.  The bright fluorescent lights of the sterile hospital pricked at her eyes and she had to blink several times to clear the black dots floating across her vision.  To her left, Dahlia found the woman of ice, Amanda, standing next to the mousey, brown door, crossing her arms across her chest in disapproval.  Dahlia was about to make a snark comment when her hearing began to return and was greeted with soothing coos of a woman to her right.  The gentle touches on her forehead coaxed her to turn her head and face the tender woman. 

Dahlia was faced with a woman who was almost a mirror image to herself.  Her onyx black hair was tousled in long waves, perfectly framing her softened jaw line.  Just as herself.  Dahlia knew, deep inside her, she just knew but the desire to hear it from this woman egged her to ask the question she desperately wished to know the answer to and in a raspy voice, Dahlia faced an unfamiliar fear and asked, “Who are you?”  Tears began to muddle the woman’s eyes as a relieved smile took over her face.  The woman’s left hand never ceased caressing Dahlia’s forehead as her right hand found her own and tightly gripped.  “Althena, I’m your mother.”

An overwhelming sadness flooded into Dahlia’s heart.  She was genuinely disappointed.  She hadn’t known this woman for more than 60 seconds and already her heart was crushed and yet, Dahlia couldn’t understand why.  Shaking her head, she pressed through the clenching pain, “No.  I’m sorry.  You have the wrong person.”  An exhausted laugh came from the woman, but she still looked elated.  “You were so young when you were taken from me.  I know you don’t remember who I am, but I will always know who my daughter is.”  Dahlia shook her head again, this time more forcefully.  “No, you don’t understand, I’m not your daughter.  My name isn’t Althena.  It’s Dahlia.”  Tilting her head to the side, the woman again laughed, her thumb rubbing the outside of Dahlia’s hand.  “That was the name given to you by the government, but your birth name is Althena Diona and yes, you _are_ my daughter.”

Confused, Dahlia too quickly turned her head to Amanda for confirmation.  Grunting in slight pain, her vision blurred again and as she waited for the dizzy feeling to fade, she asked, “Amanda.  Is this true?”  Dahlia wasn’t sure why she asked the bride of the devil a meaningful question such as this, but for once in Dahlia’s life, she hoped Amanda would do the honorable thing and tell her the truth. 

Amanda’s eyes met the woman who sat next to Dahlia and again to Dahlia herself.  Sighing she spoke.  “In 1921, a doctor named Navana Harris was studying the human genome.  She heard rumors of a woman who helped partake in the victory of World War I and that this woman was magically gifted.  Several accounts confirmed this and when Dr. Harris heard that this woman had a child, she lurched at the opportunity to study both mother and child.  But when the woman denied her, she decided to take the small child.  In 1924, your name was changed to Dahlia from Althena Diona.”  Turning her head away to the corner of the room, Amanda continued, “Your mother came searching for you for many years.  And now she sits next to you.  Diana also known as Wonder Woman.”

Dahlia turned to meet her mother’s gaze, she had begun to cry and Dahlia was effected as well.  Both shed tears and latched onto each other in desperation and happiness.  When they both managed to calm their hysteria, Dahlia gripped her mother’s hand.  “After you heal, I’m taking you away from here.  I wish to know you again.”  Dahlia smiled brightly at her mother but before her excited words could leave her mouth, Amanda interjected the tender moment.  “You have no grounds to take her.”  Diana’s eyes fiercely bore into Amanda’s in a challenging rage.  “You have no rights to keep her, Amanda.  _She_ was kidnapped.  Althena has a right to come home.”  Amanda clenched her teeth in silent anger, but she knew Diana was right.  The missing child case was now solved and the last thing she needed was to silence a government scandal. 

Amanda walked up intimidatingly to Dahlia’s bed, stared down at her, and with a stone cold face, she used her last trump card.  “Dahlia, if you leave, you will never see George Digger Harkness again.”  Amanda emphasized his name, displaying her rule of authority to keep Digger away from her.  To Dahlia, a very serious, very possible, threat.  Dahlia’s face turned pure white as her stomach dropped into her feet or almost came up through her mouth, she couldn’t tell which was happening.  Her even breathing now became a rapid stagger and she became acutely aware of the heart monitor beeping in the corner of the hospital room.  “You can’t do that.”  When the words left her mouth, she knew them to be a lie.  Amanda chuckled, “Yes I can.  He is a felon serving a triple life sentence.  I can make it so he never existed.”

Dahlia’s chest collapsed.  She released her mother’s hand and covered her mouth to keep down the rising bile.  Her stomach was heading upwards.  Tears sprung to her eyes and she didn’t bother to hide them.  Diana watched as her daughter raged an internal war and her own heart painfully clenched for her.  Shaking her head, her face distorted into disgust.  “Haven’t you done enough to her, Amanda?  There are other metahumans who would volunteer in your studies.”  Dahlia turned her head to her mother, shallowly shaking her head while small strands of hair fell into her face, sticking to her tears.  “I can’t leave him.  He’s been alone for so long… and, a-and I love him.”  Dahlia’s bottom lip quivered at her confession and puckered at her mother’s expression.  “Amanda, please.”  Diana begged.

Amanda stood above the duo and stared.  Releasing a deep sigh, she shook her head.

 

In reality, it had only been 2 weeks, but in Digger’s head, 2 felt like 20.  He was becoming delirious, sickened with rage and plagued with worry for Dahlia.  No one in the bloody toilet would tell him how she fared and his body shook with pent up emotions on a large scale.  At odd hours of the night, he would bang on the door, demanding information.  Other times, he would complete an obscene number of push-ups or run in place for long intervals.  Physically, he was exhausted.  The raging emotions kept him up at the earliest hours of the morning and ragged on him for lack of sleep, but there was so much that needed to be said, he needed to know about his Dahlia.  When his body finally begged for rest, Digger collapsed onto his mattress, his back resting against the welcoming, cool stone of the cell and his elbows glued to the bone of his knees. 

As he was finally beginning to lose consciousness, an echoing knock was heard from outside his steel door.  “Oi, unless ya come ta tell me some shit ‘bout my girl, get ta fuck away.” Digger began to close his eyes when the door swung open, protesting loudly from it’s need-to-be-oiled, hinges.  “Oi, I thought I told ya, I-…”  When Digger turned his head, he was gifted with the sight of Dahlia, standing there in a clean, healthy aura.  He clumsily scrambled to his feet.  “Dahlia!”  He rushed to her, almost taking her down to the ground.  Planting his limbs, he gathered her into his arms and gave her a crushing, desperate hug.  “Ya can’t be real.  Doll, Dahlia, is it you?”  He pulled away to cup her face, begging for his mind to not fade from this illusion.  Dahlia copied his movements and placed her own hands onto his gruff cheeks.  “Yeah, baby.  It’s me.  George, it’s me.”

Digger didn’t need any more confirmation.  If he woke up tomorrow to discover it was all a hallucination, he would welcome the insanity.  He crushed his lips to hers in a needy kiss, stealing the breath right from her lungs, filling his.  Dahlia was the first to pull away, but never stopped touching him.  “George, I see the cogs rotating in your mind, yes it’s really me.”  She took his hand and placed it over her left breast, urging him to feel her heartbeat.  Digger shut his eyes in building relief.  Sighing, he opened his eyes to meet hers.  “Ta fuckers wouldn’t tell me nuthin’ about you.”  Deeply, he hung his head in sorrow.  “I watched ya die, come back ta me, then die again, then come back.  It would ‘ave been easy for me to believe ya died and this time, stayed dead.  I wouldn’t ‘ave lived long without you.” 

Dahlia raised his head and smiled at him.  “George, I’d always come back to you.”  Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed in between his brows then led him to his unmade cot.  Once comfortable, Dahlia was the first to break the silence.  “I’m free, George.  I am no longer Amanda’s slave.”  Digger lazily smiled at her.  “I’m glad fer ya, Doll.  You deserve to be free.”  His smile turned into a shallow frown at the realization that she would likely not come back to him.  Dahlia noticed this.  Straddling his lap, she firmly took hold of his cheeks, forcing his glazed eyes to meet hers.  “George Harkness, listen to me.  Get that thought out of your head.  I… I can’t leave you.  I won’t ever.  If I have to trudge through hell or high water to get to you, I would do it with a smile on my face knowing that I will be with you and I did so.  I made a deal with the devil to be able to see you often.”  She paused to passionately kiss him.  When she pulled away, her eyes lingered over his plumped lips and when she found his eyes again, they were no longer glazed with sadness.  Instead, lust replaced any traces of sadness and sent a direct link to the pit of her stomach. 

Digger knowingly smirked and bucked up his hips.  “Ah, George.  Just dying to make your fantasy a reality?”  Digger gave Dahlia a questioning look, but licked his lips and played along.  “What would my fantasy be, Doll?”  The smile Dahlia gave Digger was of the sweetest fruits.  Her eyes softened and her fingertips grazed over the top of his white tee.  “To marry me, have 3 children: two boys and a girl who looks deceivingly a lot like me.”  She brought her eyes to his and found that he was shocked red in the face.  “To own a home together, live our lives as one.  To simply be together.”  Digger lowered his hands to her hips and gave them a gentle squeeze then gave an awkward cough.  “And how do ya know this is what I want?”

“I saw your dream, the witch showed me.  George, I love that dream.”  Sadness began to creep back into his eyes as he turned from her.  His body radiated shame and guilt.  “I can’t give ya that dream, Doll.”  Confused, Dahlia cocked her head.  “What do you mean?”  Digger shook his head, unable to meet her face.  “I’m servin’ a triple life sentence, Dahlia.  By the time I would be released, I’d be long dead and you’d be shacked up with another man.”  Forcefully, Dahlia raised his head.  “George, don’t worry about that, Amanda and I are working something out and uh, there would never be another man.”  Dahlia smiled at the words yet to spill from her mouth, excited for his reaction.  “I love you, George.  I _always_ have.”

Digger sighed a breath of relief at her confession and forced his lips on hers.  Dahlia willingly received.  “Ah, Doll.  Ya don’t know how amazin’ it is to finally hear those words from your delicious lips.”  Dahlia laughed, “I mean every word.  I love you, George.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more time: thank you all so very much!
> 
> Keep subscribed, give a kudos, leave a comment and don't forget about the short epilogue that will be posted on this fic and the prologue. I will post on here when the prologue is up.
> 
> Kisses


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